Children ’ s Picture Book Reviews

Children’s Book Reviews

Sue Christian Parsons, Ph.D. Rebecca Weber, M.L.I.S.

Individuals with disabilities are considered the largest minority group in the United States (Disability Funders Network, 2021). In 2019-2020, 7.3 million students received services under the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (National Center for Education Statistics, 2021). Disability is a complex diversity, encompassing not only varied forms of disability but also every race, age, sex, and gender. Yet in conversations surrounding diversity and inclusion in books for young readers, disability is still frequently overlooked or excluded.

As with any literary representation, we aim for authenticity, but authenticity has a broad range. When depictions are scarce across a body of literature, even an accurate portrayal can skew the big picture as a few books cannot effectively stand for a broad and varied experience. In selecting literature featuring individuals with disabilities, consider the following:

The book should recognize and emphasize the humanity of people, not just their physical, emotional, mental, or learning differences. Avoid books for which the theme is ableism or overcoming. Such themes can be harmful, suggesting to non-disabled students that they are better than their disabled peers and putting unnecessary, and often unrealistic, expectations on students with disabilities. Look for books that accurately represent people and the characteristics of their disabilities while not necessarily making disability the only focus of their stories. Books should also show similarities and common interests between disabled and non-disabled individuals, as students with disabilities have many of the same interests, concerns, and goals as nondisabled students. Additionally, while disabled individuals do often encounter barriers, the writing should make clear that any barriers addressed are due to societal limitations, not a shortcoming of the person. Overall, the goal is to tell human stories respectfully, accurately, and engagingly.

In selecting the books below, we have considered authentic and accurate disability representation as well as literary quality. For an extended list of thoughtfully vetted selections, we recommend the Schneider Family Book Award. Scan the QR code to access the award list.

DISABILITY REPRESENTATION IN CHILDREN’S AND YOUNG ADULT LITERATURE: GUIDELINES AND POSSIBILITIES

Bodies are Cool by Tyler Feder, 2021; Dial Books.

Bodies are Cool is a rollicking celebration of human bodies doing all the wonderful things that human bodies can do. Each two-page spread bursts with human figures of all ages, sizes, genders, ethnicities, and abilities, surrounding a quatrain describing and celebrating bodies. The rhythmic text begs to be read aloud, with verve and joy. In text and image, Feder recognizes the beauty in all shapes, sizes, and kinds of features, and ways of expressing individuality through bodies. All these busy bodies gather closely on pages enjoying life together—playing, dancing, creating art, swimming, eating--evoking an extended, intergenerational, interfaith, multicultural community that is kind and caring. Images include depictions of individuals using an assortment of medical and accessibility devices, as well. For example, one individual sports an ostomy bag, another an insulin pump, and another a nasal cannula—and more. People move about with guide dogs, wheelchairs, scooters, and prosthetics. Differences in skin go beyond varied skin tones to include other variances such as freckles, moles, and vitiligo. This extravagantly inclusive book concludes with this refrain: “My body, your body. / Every different kind of body! / All bodies are good bodies! / Bodies are cool!”

Unbound: The Life and Art of Judith Scott by Joyce Scott (author) with Brie Spangler (author) and Melissa Sweet (illustrator), 2021; Alfred A. Knopf.

Twins Judith and Joyce Scott were, from birth, inseparable. They shared everything and did everything together. “Two peas in a pod,” their mother would say. To Joyce, it seemed as if everything in the world came in twos. But Judy and Joyce were born in 1945, before Down’s Syndrome was wellunderstood—and Judy had Down’s Syndrome. Joyce began kindergarten, but the school didn’t allow Judy, who was nonverbal, to attend. Instead, as was the advised practice at the time, the Scotts sent Judy to a residential school where they were told she would be taught to speak.

Joyce Scott herself is the narrator of this biography. The scenes detailing her grief and confusion at being separated from her sister are palpable but accessible for younger readers. When Joyce visits Judy, readers can see along with her that the “school” is no place for learning or for children to thrive. Because of Joyce’s perspective, though, Judy’s abilities and personality are centered in the text. Judy is warm and loving, loves to explore the world around her in person and through pictures in her beloved magazines. “She is perfect just the way she is. She knows things that no one else knows and sees the world in ways that I never will.” Years go by. Joyce has a family and a career. She’s shared her life with Judy as best she could, visiting and bringing people to meet her. When she’s finally in the position to do so, Joyce goes about bringing Judy to live with her. In the preparation process, Joyce learns something she never knew. Judy is deaf, something her family never knew. Her records label her as “not appropriate for any educational program.”

Once Judy is home, Joyce searches for a place for her to learn. She hears about the Creative Growth Art Center that offers a program for individuals with disabilities. At the center, Judy is offered paints, clay, and even woodworking, but she doesn’t engage. But when a teacher spreads a table with natural materials, Judy’s creativity seems to burst forth as she makes form after form from found objects, yarn and twine, and paint. “For years, Judy wraps and weaves, creating fabulous cocoon-like shapes filled with color.” Judith Scott died of heart failure at age 62, having lived longer than anyone expected her to. But when she leaves the world, her fame as an artist takes off and continues to grow.

Artist Melissa Sweet’s mixed media work deftly carries the emotion of the story and evokes Scott’s own artistic process and style. The back matter is particularly strong, with photographs of Judith’s art and a detailing of its prominent place in the art world, information about Down’s Syndrome, and an explanation of the work and guiding tenets of Creative Growth. A timeline intertwines events in Judith’s life with milestones in disability rights legislation. Resources for future exploration are provided. This important biography doesn’t shy away from the difficult truths of Judith Scott’s life, but the focus is powerfully on love, promise, and the worth of every person. In her author’s note, Joyce Scott concludes, “One of the greatest riches in my life has been to be Judy’s twin, her heart so deep, her kindness without end. One of her blessings was being an artist at Creative Growth, where she gave the world new expressions of beauty and, in the process, found a voice and song all her own.

What Happened to You? by James Catchpole (author) and Karen George (illustrator), 2021; Faber and Faber.

Imagine you were asked by strangers to answer the same question, repeatedly, every day. No matter what the question, responding again and again would be tedious, especially when you have other things you want to do and think about. What if that questioning stranger was asking you to reveal something you feel is deeply personal? Or that brings to mind a subject or situation you’d rather not dwell upon. Joe in What Happened to You? is busy playing a rollicking game of pirates and sharks…and possibly crocodiles. Wielding his cutlass (twig), he deftly wards off attack, “Not today, Señor Sharkface!” he sneers. Sharks are easy for Joe compared to meeting new kids. Another child approaches, encroaches on Joe’s game, loudly exclaiming, “You’ve only got one leg!” Joe doesn’t want to talk about that topic, so he deflects: “What do you think?” launching a barrage of speculation from a gathering crowd of children, some outlandish, some silly, others just plain nosy. Joe’s play is fully interrupted and, as the unwilling center of attention, is fully frustrated. Finally, he picks up on one of the more outlandish ideas:

“Yes, it was a thousand lions!”

“Really?”

“NO!”

Joe went back to playing his game, but this time the first child, Simone, approaches and joins in his game. The others follow, all pirates, fighting sharks and crocodiles, and no one worrying one bit about Joe’s leg. After the play, Simone asks Joe if he gets tired of questions about his leg.

“What do you think?” is Joe’s response. Simone knew the answer to that question. “Do you still need to know…?” asked Joe. And Simone did not.

George’s watercolor and pencil illustrations show that Joe is as active and capable as his two-legged friends. Catchpole based the book on his own experiences as a child (and now adult) with one leg. An author’s note in the back matter offers suggestions for parents on how to address children’s curiosity about disability in ways that are respectful and kind.

Can Bears Ski? By Raymond Antrobus (author) and Polly Dunbar (illustrator); 2020; Candlewick.

Little Bear feels much of the world through vibration. When Dad Bear wakes him in the morning, Little Bear feels the rumble of his steps and deep voice. At school, he feels his teacher’s footsteps as she tries to get his attention. He’s confused, though, about a question friends and family keep asking him: “Can bears ski?” A trip to the audiologist reveals that Little Bear is hard of hearing. With the help of new hearing aids, Little Bear realizes what people have been asking him again and again: “Can you hear?” The warm father-son relationship sets the tone for this piece that offers young readers insight into what it might be like to be hard of hearing.

Poet Antrobus and artist Dunbar are a literary superpower team, their resumes littered with prestigious awards. For this small and very special book, they both draw upon their experiences with deafness. Antrobus was born deaf, a fact not discovered until he was six (Sethi, 2018). Dunbar’s mother was profoundly deaf ,and she began losing her own hearing in her 20s. Scan the QR code for interviews with both authors further illuminating the importance and appeal of this book.

Itzhak, a Boy Who Loved the Violin: The Story of Young Itzhak Perlman by Tracy Newman (author) and Abigail Halpin (illustrator), 2020; Abrams Books for Young Readers.

Like its subject’s violin, this biography of Izthak Perlman sings. Newman’s text and Halpin’s art work in perfect counterpoint, and the book as a whole echoes the changing rhythms and moods of a symphony. The first section, addressing his early years, alternates spreads narrating his life with others evoking the thrill and expansiveness of music in his life. For instance, the first spread, shows and tells of the tiny one-room Tel Aviv flat where baby Izthak lived with his parents surrounded by music from the tabletop radio. With a turn of the page, the reader is invited into the music with sweeping, grand flourishes of musical notation swirling around the page, calling the eye to images of orchestras and cantors and folk musicians, with a smiling infant raising his hands to reach for it all. Another page turn brings more exposition of Izthak’s growing interest and yearning to make music with a violin. Izthak’s family found a way to get him one, his delight and anticipation captured in the next swirling spread ,where lyrical language pairs with ethereal images of his violin role models. As Izthak realizes with frustration that he can’t yet make those sounds, the text becomes staccato and deliberate, echoing the emotion of a disappointed boy who, ‘gave it a whack and threw it under the bed. ’ Suddenly, in the next movement, the color-saturated pages give way to a stark white background littered with hospital beds as Izthak contracts polio.

Throughout his slow, painful but determined recovery, “a steady melody played inside Itzhak, encouraging, energizing, empowering him.” As Izthak adapts, the book resumes its rhythmic interplay between narration and musical emotion. Halpin’s images set alternating stages for Newman’s clear storytelling and evocative poetry rich with sound play: “brilliantly bouncy spiccato/vivid, varied vibrato/speedy staccato strokes/playful pizzicato plucking/smooth, slow legato.” On one particularly powerful spread, Newman explains that people doubted a violinist could play well sitting down, a point Halpin brings home showing Itzhak at the base of a huge staircase, violin in hand. The storytelling strikes a productive balance between highlighting the very real struggles Itzhak faced because of his disability and his determination to find a way through. The book ends with his first big professional break, an appearance on the Ed Sullivan show. Back matter picks up the story from there through today, including an extended biographical author’s note and detailed timeline.

All the Way to the Top: How One Girl’s Fight for Americans with Disabilities Changed Everything by Annette Bay Pimentell (author) and Nabi H. Ali (illustrator) and Jennifer Keelan-Chaffins (foreword), 2020; Sourcebooks Explore.

Jennifer Keelan is ready to GO! But as a child with cerebral palsy who relies on a wheelchair for mobility, trying to start school meant being told again and again to STOP! The local elementary school is not handicap accessible, so Jennifer’s family enrolls her in another school. But getting in doesn’t eliminate the barriers as Jennifer is confined to half-day school and is isolated from classmates. When Jennifer’s family learns about a group of activists working on making sure everyone has access to public

places, they attend a meeting. Jennifer is amazed to be surrounded by so many other people with disabilities. Though she’s the only child in attendance, she enthusiastically accepts an invitation to join a protest. At the rally, she takes the mic and tells her story. After the rally, she is eager to GO! again. Accompanied by her family, she participates in protests around the country where she and her sister are the only children’s voices raised. When the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) is proposed, hope swells in the community, but with little media coverage and legislators who can’t seem to see the need over the expense, the activist groups decide they have to show the importance in a very visible way. They organize a protest right at the door of the voting legislators in Washington D.C. Jennifer’s family purchases airline tickets and join the marchers heading down Pennsylvania Avenue, chanting:

‘What do we want?’

‘The ADA!’

‘When do we want it?’

‘Now!’

The march dead-ends at the U.S. Capitol building, where the planned Capitol Crawl commences. As grownups slide out of wheelchairs and begin to crawl up the formidable steps to the building, Jennifer wants to join. The adults think she shouldn’t, but Jennifer is fueled by a desire for justice for all the children who are stopped each day because of a lack of accessibility. Pimentel describes Jennifer’s grueling climb with almost tangible detail, from dirt and rock digging into her skin to roaring crowds and reporters surrounding her. Pictures of Jennifer climbing get attention around the world. The media coverage leads to legislative conversations and, ultimately, to the passage of the ADA. But Jennifer is still going!

End matter for this informative and engaging biography explains concepts related to disability, provides more detail on the ADA, and addresses the importance of activism. A photo of Jennifer crawling the steps and a timeline showing life before and after the ADA, both for Jennifer and the disability community at large, rounds out this intriguing offering. A child’s experience speaks strongly to young readers, so this book has the potential ignite important conversations about inclusion and the power of individuals, working together, to affect change.

Moses Goes to a Concert by Isaac Millman, 2002; Square Fish

Moses has a new drum. As he plays, he enjoys feeling the vibrations through his hands and, when he takes off his shoes, his feet. Moses and his school friends (who are all deaf) take a field trip to see a concert with their teacher Mr. Samuels. At the concert, Mr. Samuels hands each student a balloon to hold in his or her lap. The balloon helps the students experience the concert more fully because it carries the vibrations from the orchestra’s instruments. On stage, Moses and his friends see a percussionist who is not wearing shoes! She uses the vibrations she feels through her feet to know when it’s time for her to play her instruments. The percussionist’s name is Ms. Elwyn and after the concert, she explains

to the students how she became deaf at age 7 and how she worked hard to master her art. On the way home and later that night, Moses talks about how he wants to be a percussionist, too.

This book is a fun, accessible story for young children about some different ways deaf people experience music. There is a note at the beginning of the book on American Sign Language and how it’s expressed through the illustrations. There are directional signs as well as ASL signs that tell readers how their hands should move to sign correctly in ASL. Though not deaf, the author consulted with two deaf teachers to make sure the signs were correct. In the back of the book, there is an ASL alphabet so that non-deaf students can practice signing too.

Millman has two other books about Moses, both featuring Moses and including material in and about ASL.

Just Ask: Be Different, Be Brave, Be You by Sonia Sotomayor (author) and Rafael López, 2019; Philomel.

In Just Ask: Be Different, Be Brave, Be You, Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor encourages children to ask questions, particularly related to each other’s differences. Sotomayor, who was diagnosed with diabetes at age 7, takes an instructional approach but with a warm, inviting, conversational tone. Rafael Lopez’s richly colored, multimedia illustrations further the welcoming feel.

The opening scene, spread across two pages, features children working together in a garden. The narrator, a child who identifies herself as Sonia, notes that plants in a garden are all beautiful but different in many ways, including the various things they need to stay healthy. Kids are the same, she explains, in many ways the same but with many differences, too, some easy to see and others more hidden. “Each of us grows in our own way, so if you are curious about other kids, just ask.” On the next page, she (child-Sonia) explains, “Not everyone is comfortable answering questions about themselves, but I don’t mind,” going on to explain simply and directly why she is pricking her finger, what diabetes is, and how she manages it. The short section ends with a question turning the focus to commonalities, “Do you ever need to take medicine to be healthy?” On the next spread, a character named Rafael (who, like the illustrator, has asthma) introduces himself. His explanation follows the same formula as Sonia’s—naming the disability, addressing how it affects him and how he manages it, and ending with a question evoking common experience.

The book continues with this pattern, a new child on each spread of the disability: mobility challenges (wheelchair), blindness, deafness, dyslexia, autism, fluency disorder, Tourette’s syndrome, attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder, and Down’s syndrome. Children and their adults can benefit from the model of easy-to-understand explanations and respectful conversations. The text includes reminders that individuals may not want to field questions and suggests that children who are curious about disability may want to ask an adult. An important

reminder is that it’s okay to talk with each other and ask questions, but it’s also okay to stay you aren’t comfortable answering a question or don’t want to talk about it.

Rescue and Jessica: A Life-Changing Friendship by Jessica Kensky (author), Patrick Downes (author), and Scott Magoon (illustrator).

Jessica’s legs have been badly injured. The doctors hope her right leg will heal but they have to remove part of her left leg so she can be healthy again. Rescue, like other dogs in his family line, has been training to be a seeing-eye dog. But his trainer feels Rescue will do better as a service dog. Jessica works hard to learn new ways to do things that used to be easy for her. She learns to use a wheelchair, to transfer in and out of bed, and she puts on a prosthetic leg so she can stand and learn to walk again. It’s all hard and feels overwhelming. Rescue learns to stay by his partner’s side, to fetch various objects, and to open doors. When Rescue and Jessica join forces, she finds a way to move beyond her frustration and unhappiness to move ahead with confidence.

The story is based on the experiences of Jessica Kensky, who was injured in the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing, resulting in the amputation of first one leg and later the other. She co-authored this book with her husband, Patrick, who also lost a leg in the bombing. Jessica’s character in the book is portrayed as a child. The authors matter-of-factly address the experience of acquired disability and rehabilitation and illuminate both the rehabilitation process and how service dogs work to help.

Rescue’s character is somewhat uncomfortably anthropomorphized for a realistic fiction selection. He is sad to hear from his trainer that he won’t be a seeing eye dog, and he worries if he will do a good job for his future partner. Still, his reported feelings and progress mirror Jessica’s, highlighting the importance of their partnership and the hard work that went into their journeys. Scan the QR code for background information on Jessica’s and Patrick’s experiences.

Hello Goodbye Dog by Maria Gianferrari (author) and Patrice Barton (Illustrator), 2017; Roaring Brook Press.

Moose loves hello! Moose dreads goodbye: “Goodbye was an itch that couldn’t be scratched.” So when Zara has to go to school without her, Moose does everything she can to get to Zara for another hello. Confined to the house, she rushes out the first open door and runs to Zara’s school. Mom and dad are called to get her, but in the meantime, Moose lies quietly for storytime. When it’s time to say goodbye, Moose “puts on her brakes,” so it takes Mom, Dad, Zara, and the teacher to get Moose to go home, where she is tied in the backyard. But determined Moose

breaks the lead and arrives back at school just in time for library time. Once again, Moose settles in until her ride arrives., enjoying Zara reading aloud to her while other children listen. This time it takes Mom, Dad, Zara, the teacher, and the librarian to get Moose to say goodbye.

Once home, she breaks free again, this time arriving in the lunchroom where she politely listens to a book as she waits. The principal arrives and it’s time again for goodbye. “But Moose was tired of goodbye. A game of tag was on. Principal Evans was “It.” Pandemonium, complete with flying peas and carrots, ensues, but Moose is eventually tagged through the efforts of all the adults, including the lunch ladies. Crated at home, Moose yowls in sorrow. But the ending is a happy one in this cumulative tale. Moose goes to therapy dog school to become a certified reading dog, so she can spend her days with Zara and her friends at school.

End matter includes an author’s note about therapy dogs and their role in supporting young readers. The cumulative structure of this energetic and warm story will, like Moose, support growing readers. Zara is depicted as using a wheelchair, but there is no mention of disability in the text. Barton’s illustrations, soft and gentle, exude love and good-naturedness, especially in Moose’s loving gaze. This is, simply and effectively, a charming love story between a girl and her dog.

Emmanuel’s Dream: The True Story of Emmanuel Ofosu Yeboah by Laurie Ann Thompson (author) and Sean Qualls (illustrator).

When Emmanuel was born, he was strong and healthy, but one of his legs was badly deformed. In his Ghanaian community, people often viewed babies born with disabilities as useful or even cursed. His father abandoned the family, but his mother, Comfort, had faith. As he grew, she told him he could have anything he wanted but he’d have to get it himself—and he did, climbing trees, carrying water, and shining shoes to make money. Though disabled children usually were not able to attend school, Comfort carried him there and back every day until he because too heavy to carry; then, he hopped all the way there on one leg. When other children wouldn’t play with him, he used his money to buy a soccer ball. He’d share, but the others had to let him play. Using crutches and his good right leg to kick, he gained respect and made friends. When his friends rented bikes, Emmanuel wanted to join them. With a friend pushing him fast so he could balance, he tried and fell and tried and fell—until he could ride. When his mother became too ill to work, Emmanuel set off for the city to help support his family, but people were reluctant to hire him because of his disability. Emmanuel secured work but is more aware than ever of the plight of disabled individuals in Ghana.

Comfort did not recover. In her final words, she reminded him, “Be respectful, take care of your family, don’t ever beg. And don’t give up.’ Emmanuel determined to honor the gift of his mother’s last words “by showing everyone that being disabled does not mean being unabled.” Emmanuel hatched a plan to ride a bicycle around Ghana to spread his message. After trying closer to home, he finally received a bike and gear from the Challenged Athlete Foundation in

California. Emmanuel pedaled that bike “up, down, across, and around” Ghana, spreading his message and, in the process, becoming a national hero.

Though not shying away from difficult truths related to social attitudes about disability, Thompson’s matter-of-fact narrative keeps the focus of every phase in Emmanuel’s life on the love, faith, courage, and ability that marks his story from the beginning. Quall’s soft-hued multimedia illustrations convey emotions to texturize and deepen the narrative. An author’s note addresses the global reach and significance of Yeboah’s work that continues today.

References

Disability Funders Network. (2021). Disability facts and stats. Retrieved October 24, 2021 from https://www.disabilityfunders.org/disability-stats-and-facts

Sethi, A. (2019, December 28). Interview: Raymond Antrobus: ‘In some ways, poetry is my first language.’ The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/books/2019/dec/28/raymondantrobus-the-perseverance-poetry-interview

U.S. Department of Education. Institute of Education Sciences, National Center for Education Statistics. (2021). Students with disabilities. Retrieved October 24, 2021 from https://nces.ed.gov/programs/coe/indicator/cgg

See information about these authors after the Young Adult column.