Where do the books that surface into the used book market come from? Some rise from the lowest realms, picked from dumpsters or eviction piles, packed into garbage bags by denizens of alleys and transported in grocery carts to be resold on corners. Others descend from the highest, auctioned off in marble halls after the death of a collector, the stuff of newspaper articles and memoirs. But most commonly an unwanted book will travel from bookshelf to yard sale, and then to the donation box at a church, library or thrift store. There it will be piled with hundreds of other discarded books in a basement shop, or prepared for the annual sale.  Here enters the book scout.

Most scouts that I have known are men, many of indeterminate age. There are a few women as well, and I must count myself among them as I scout for my own store. They range from the pathetically small scale, such as Peggy, who lives on the Chicago El and finds a few paperbacks a week to resell for a pittance, to sophisticated operators utilizing ISBN scanners that give them real time prices and sales rankings for tens of books at a time. They mob library sales to the point where many libraries have created elaborate rules and in some cases banned their devices in an effort to keep the peace. They are known to arrive at estate sales in the pre-dawn hours to obtain a precious numbered scrap of paper for early entrance.

Are these cut-throat scrambles really worth it? In most cases, yes. Because the books at these sales are indiscriminately priced at a dollar or less, finding a handful of gems in the piles can bring a very nice return. But there are a finite number of sellable books in every pile, so the scout must learn how to spot them quickly and grab them first.  Having a deep knowledge and remarkable memory of valuable books and authors is helpful, as is having a rotund gut and an unpleasant odor. But the electronic device has become absolutely essential for any serious scout, for the fluctuating prices of hundreds of thousands of titles are impossible to remember or predict.

Most of the scouts one encounters these days sell for themselves on the internet. A few, however, still sell to other book dealers, continuing a centuries old tradition.  Some are notorious in their regions. In Chicago, there is Pete.

Booksellers groan as they spot Pete's form outside their windows, frantically conveying overstuffed bags of books from the curb to their doors, haggling with the cab driver (most certainly not leaving a tip), grunting and wiping the sweat and snow from his bald crown into his remaining limp shoulder length hair. He will prop the door open with one of his bags, despite the freezing cold, despite the number of times he has been told not to do this, and barge through lines of customers with his dense shoulders. Many dealers have banned him from their shops, but a few have not, either out of pity or because the process of banning him is actually more difficult than simply buying a few of his books and sending him on. Like an impish toddler Pete has a remarkable ability to get away with whatever he likes by raising such a fuss that it isn't worth the effort to deny him.

He will have bags and bags of books of all levels of mediocrity, and he will insist that the buyer examine every one. (Often a book of worth will surface in one of his bags, but he will snatch it back and hide it away.) Rumors about his life abound, but few things are certain. He lived with his parents until well into his forties. I still remember the shrill nasal voice of his mother, who would call the bookstores looking for him. "Is Peter there? This is his mother!" And if he was there he would emit a low groan and roll his eyes like a teenager before dutifully trudging to the phone. A story goes that one day the ceiling in his mother's kitchen started to crack under the weight of the books in his room. She was unable to force him to leave, so she sold the house without telling him and moved out. Pete wasn't seen for a while after this, and was living in a storage space while morosely looking for an apartment when he resurfaced.

He constantly complained about the soreness in his back, the result of nights spent on the floor of his room. Why did he not sleep in his bed? Because it was covered in books of course! Sometimes piles of them would fall on him as he slept. He would relate these events as one would describe a storm in the night. To Pete the arrangement of books in his room was as much an act of god as the weather. Any suggestion to the contrary would be met with baffled anger and a sigh of frustration. He disliked sleep, and would often mention the large doses of ephedrine he would take to avoid it.

An old story circulates that Pete actually had a bookstore once. The problem was that he didn't want to sell any of his books, would stare down customers as they browsed, then refuse to let them purchase what they had found. Eventually he stopped opening the store and hung up a "By Appointment Only" sign. However he wouldn't answer the door or the phone, fearing it was his landlord attempting to collect the rent.

Did he ever read his books? "I look at parts of every one! I open them up and read a few paragraphs!" was his offended response when asked. The only interests he ever mentioned were figure skating and LSD.  He seemed to have some occult inclinations, and wore a holographic medallion around his neck that he refused to speak about. One bookstore clerk in a fit of exasperation asked Pete if his medallion would make him disappear, and if so, would he please rub it?

I hear that he comes around less often now, and many of the dealers who once bought from him have retired. Some day his hoarded pile will also be frantically picked through by scouts, then dispersed around the globe...

Posted by: Adrienne Eaton

In my last entry I addressed the rise of internet bookselling and its effect on brick and mortar used bookstores. This week I would like to look at the nature of the growing online used book marketplace.

What books are selling there? Certainly the same titles that are selling everywhere else. The paperbacks that were piled up at Cosco last month flood the internet today. These books will sell quickly and profitably online for a brief period, then their prices will rapidly drop to pennies a piece as the public finishes them, discards them, and moves on to the next new thing. Over 1,000 copies of "The Five People You Meet in Heaven" are now available on Amazon.com, most at a price of under one dollar. Yet why would anyone want to pay even that when a call to one's aunt or a tour around the block is likely to yield a copy for free?  
      
The intelligent used bookseller soon learns to avoid yesterday's fads and focus instead on obscure and overlooked titles of the past. The surest sellers are books that never appealed to the masses, but remain persistently interesting to a few. Those few have often been searching and will happily purchase when they find.

I can look through my records and find a week last year when the following titles sold:

Alaska's Mushrooms
Forensic Entomology
Sex Toy Tricks
Weaving Contemporary Rag Rugs
Radical Street Performance
Theory and Method in Ethnomusicology
Stick Fighting: Techniques of Self-Defense
The Healthy Bird Cookbook

Some are out-of-print, some are otherwise difficult to acquire. (One, at least, might cause embarrassment at the register.) All are not what one would expect to find at the local Borders, and many were shipped to places where there is no local Borders. I often ship books to soldiers and prisoners, to rural areas and developing nations. These people and places make up a part of the growing market in used books--a market that previously had limited access to any extensive and affordable selection.

Interesting connections can now be made between books and readers that could rarely have happened before.  I recently sold a book on the history of Kentucky place names, acquired in Chicago, to a woman in northern California, and also a book on Chinese cinema, published in France, to a professor in Brazil. I believe that I have sold obscure biographies to the children of their subjects (although I didn't ask), and I know that I have sold signed copies of books to their authors, many years after the fact. Last week I found an interesting book in a basement: a hefty commemoration of the destruction of the Jewish population of the Polish town of Ostrowiec during WWII, that was written by the survivors and their descendants in the 1960s. I look forward to seeing where it will go. Most likely it will cross an ocean.

We cannot see these new connections being made, they are not framed by quaint bookshops, but they represent a change in access to material that affects many lives. Fifteen years ago, the transactions that I have described above would have been lengthy and costly for the customer, in many cases prohibitively so, and perhaps impossible. The customer may not have even known that the titles existed, but can now become aware of them through the many excellent online book databases with subject descriptions and reader reviews.

The future of this industry can, I think, only become more interesting. New online used-book marketplaces continue to develop in all parts of the world and are becoming increasingly interconnected. Every year more books surface on the internet as booksellers continue to list their inventories and as basements and closets are dredged by book scouts around the world. This brings the prices of books down (causing us dealers to grumble), but it also brings in new customers and new readers. It is difficult to predict what long term effects these changes will have on readership, as the advent of e-books and other digital information sources will likely overshadow most developments in used bookselling, but a globally accessible book marketplace is something the world has not yet seen, and is nothing to get depressed about.

Posted by: Adrienne Eaton

What is the used-book market? It is for the most part a prosaic place: dingy, dusty, occasionally shady; yet there are rumors of ancient treasure, marvelous happenstance, and secrets of the dead and famous lining its walls. The richest and the poorest have their respective places in it, as do the in-between, sometimes unknowingly. It exists (as it always has) in bookshops, basements, and closets; yet also on computers and networks, in libraries and on lawns. It is a place that throughout its history has been looked upon with great nostalgia: it is eternally dying, its most glorious era always a few decades past. Yet, it continues to live. In fact, it is currently healthy and growing.

It is healthy and growing? We find this a bit hard to admit. In fact, it is terribly unromantic. What we find even more unromantic and objectionable is that its healthy new life is being lived on the internet, a new-fangled place teeming with teenagers, hoaxers and pornographers. Hardly the spot for the great cultural wealth in our cherished dusty volumes! How could they mix with such a crowd? Where will our marvelous happenstance happen if we must use a search engine? How will we ever stumble across the ancient treasure if it is perched atop a web-page for all to see? Our circumstantial bliss is gone! This cannot happen! Our books must remain where they were, in the keep of the old and the bearded, in a shop on the street, where our hands can paw and our imaginations can wander.

Yes this would be nice, wouldn't it?  But, before we get too upset, let us look closer at what is happening. Perhaps the future isn't as terrible as we think, and the past might be different than we remember. In these blogs I would like to look at some common perceptions of used-bookselling, and try to sort the reality from the nostalgia.

Today I'd like to discuss the much bemoaned disappearance of independent bookstores, and the factors in their demise.

We must first make the distinction between the new and used book markets. When new bookstores were badly hit by the arrival of internet bookselling (among other things), used bookstores suddenly found themselves with a much expanded marketplace and opportunities for efficiencies that had never existed before. When the independent new bookseller had to compete with a big box retailer and an internet giant for the sale of a new Sue Grafton novel, our old and bearded friend was excited to finally find a buyer for an obscure book on Scandinavian fishing that had long lingered on his shelves. The used booksellers flocked to internet marketplaces, rapidly creating a large and efficient global book trade the likes of which they had only dreamed of in their catalog mailing pasts.

But still, we some used bookstores close their doors. Why? Consider this as a likely scenario: perhaps the old bearded curmudgeon we all miss so much wasn't as fond of us as we like to think. Why, he thinks, should he pay rent and utilities for this place for us to come in, molest his cat, mess up his shelves, stink up his bathroom, pester him with questions and then leave after dropping $10.36 on an old J.D. Salinger paperback and a gardening handbook? He has a guy in Japan who just spent $700 on a set of technical manuals that are stored in the back.  Why not close the door, unplug the coffee machine, head to a cheaper spot and do what he loves most: hang out with his books and his cat with some peace and quiet? So, while a few storefronts closed, giving the general public the impression that the industry was suffering, the stores had in fact just moved into back rooms and warehouses, their public faces now visible through a modem connection only.

Some storefronts have not closed, however. If you still have some independent bookstores in your area, there is a great likelihood that most or all of them are used bookstores. But why have they not all moved into back rooms? First, because most of these booksellers really do love their bookstores. They love the customers, the community, the serendipitous moments, the magical things that we all love about bookstores. Second, because while their in-store sales might not be growing, they aren't doing so badly either, as they can still give the big box stores some competition for value and selection. Third, because in most cases they own the building. While rising rent for retail locations in urban areas is not the most exciting factor in the demise of the independent bookstore, it is a significant factor that is often overshadowed in discussions by stories of corporate greed and rising illiteracy. An increase in rent is usually the deciding factor when our favorite bookstores go out of business, whether used or new. A good portion of the stores that still exist today do so because they bought their buildings and were able to weather many a storm that would have forced them out of business if their rent was raised or they had to move.

Yet still, I would argue that the most significant factor in keeping these stores alive is the internet. Without it, rising rents, declining readership, and all of the other familiar scourges would have forced these stores out of business along with their counterparts in the new book trade. A Book Industry Study Group report stated that in 2006 brick and mortar used bookstores relied on the internet for 40% of their sales. That is a make or break percentage, and I believe that most used booksellers would readily admit that without the internet they would not have open stores. So, while we might not have the number and variety of bookstores that we had in the past, we still have some wonderful places to browse and explore, many of which are expanding and preparing for their futures. And for this we must begrudgingly throw a little thanks to that baffling source of all that we find objectionable: the internet.

Posted by: Adrienne Eaton

I’ve been privileged to visit ForeWord as a guest blogger this month. I’ve written two posts as a reviewer. I’ve written two posts as a librarian. But I haven’t addressed the roles that are nearest and dearest to my heart, the duo of roles that inspires my blog title. I am a Mother and I am a Reader.

Here’s one of my favorite MotherReader stories. When my oldest daughter was five, she asked me to play house. “I’ll be the mommy and you’ll be the little girl,” she said. I agreed and prepared myself for my role. Meanwhile, she sat down on the couch, opened a book to read, and looking over the top said, “Go play with your sister.”

Never have I felt so much angst and pride at the same time. Of course, my mother guilt kicked in. Did she think that all I did was read? Did she feel so neglected? What kind of mom was I? But at the same time, I felt proud of the lesson she had picked up from me, namely that Moms read and reading’s important.

As a mother of two (now) school-aged girls, I get asked occasionally how I find time to read. I can only pat the questioner on the head with an air of pity (well, mentally), and answer that one doesn’t find time to read, one makes time to read. Looking at reading as something that that’s done when everything else is finished, means that you’ll never even crack open a People magazine. (Not that I read this particular journal, understand.) And this goes double, maybe triple for mothers. Every minute I read, I’ve carved that time away from something else. Sometimes I don’t put the laundry away. Sometimes I don’t shower, but I make the time to read.

While I’m taking time for myself in a self-care, Oprah kind of way, I’m also conveying an important message to my kids. Moms read books for fun. I couldn’t talk to them about reading being important and then never open a book myself.  My actions speak louder than my words ever could, and believe me, I can make my words LOUD.

I’ve also been asked by parents that with today’s busy lifestyle, how I find time for my kids to read. For this question, I allow a quick wide-eyed expression of shock so the questioner realizes the very seriousness of the inquiry. For me, it’s as if they’ve asked how I find time for my children to eat dinner. In my family, reading is a necessary and vital part of our day. We formed the habit early, and rarely break it.

Since my daughters were babies, the last part of every evening has been given over to reading. When the girls were younger, my husband or I read to them. Then each child went through a stage where we would alternate fun picture books with the beginning readers series of the month. Now sometimes we read a book to them – a great picture book or chapters from a harder book – and sometimes we all read our own books. Often one daughter and I will recline on the couch, each leaning against the opposite side arms and our legs sharing the space in the middle. It’s comfy. It’s fun. The dishes can wait.

Want to raise a reader? Then read. Read to them, read with them, read beside them. Take it from a MotherReader.

Posted by: Pam Coughlan

I am magic. I can make books disappear.

My magic isn’t always strong. It ebbs and flows with the seasons and even the days of the week. My magic isn’t all-powerful. There are books that continually resist my charms. My magic isn’t reliable. It sometimes works or fails when I least expect it.

But I am magic, and I am not alone.

My skills can be taught, and I am breaking the great vow of the magician to share my secret. It’s astonishing simple, yet can make books disappear from shelves and into the hands of readers more than anything else.

Pull a book from the shelf. Tighten up the shelf of books to leave a six-inch space at the end of each shelf. Put the chosen book in that space with the cover facing outward. Stand back and allow the magic to do its work.

As I mentioned earlier, this particular strain of magic isn’t always strong, powerful, or reliable. In the summertime, the books that face out disappear off the shelves quickly. In the week before Christmas, I could tape Fun-Dip to the covers and they still wouldn’t go out. For me, the early parts of the weeks see more books finding their just-right reader. On Fridays the books may spend the weekend staring out into the library zone dreaming of being read by a warm fire or under a down comforter.

Also like many a great magician, I do have an assistant. Actually, I have three assistants who do their jobs long before the books come gently into my hands. I have no communication with them unfortunately, but as I reveal my secrets today I can also implore them to make my magic – our magic – stronger.

It starts with the author. I wouldn’t even presume to tell authors to write good books, though that does help books find readers. I know that the author is putting her heart into her writing and believes that she has put together the best book that she can. But I would suggest that the author really really think about the title of the book. A great title can move a book. Do you think Sex Kittens and Horn Dawgs Fall in Love stays on the shelf? Not a chance.

The publisher has a huge impact on the book by creating the cover art. A good book with a boring cover will sit on the shelf forever. Not even my librarian magic can move it. An interesting, funny, and/or kid-friendly cover can make that book almost jump off the shelf and find a new best friend. Before the publisher signs off on the cover or title (because they can help here too), someone should find about twenty kids of the target age and find out if the cover and title grabs them. The plain cover of The Seven Wonders of Sassafras Springs was a killer for that book. But lesson learned, as the paperback has a more engaging cover. The girly-looking unicorn on the cover of The Prophecy by Hilari Bell may be keeping the boy readers away from this otherwise boy-friendly book, but the publishers are staying the course with the paperback. (By the way, maybe the book could have had a title that isn’t the tile of say, forty other books. Just saying.)

Online and print reviewers have their own magic to create. By promoting books that may fall under the radar, those titles become prime choices for librarians to pull out from the rows of books and set out for others to find. By interviewing authors, a personal connection is formed that makes it a notch easier to select a title from a new author to display. By promoting special topics or events, they create a reason for special displays and lessons. The kid lit bloggers’ love for Babymouse turned me on to the series and to the author Jennifer Holm (Maybe “turned on” isn’t the right phrase in the context of the author, but she is a very nice person and great writer.)

Here’s how it works for me in a day at the library. I straighten the children’s fiction shelves and pull out The Naked Mole-Rat Letters because the title is cool. At the next shelf I pull out the classic Jenny and the Cat Club because we have two copies and I believe that adults would love to know that it’s there to read to their kids. The next shelf is some book by Avi, because there are so many and they all beg to be read. Then an Ivy and Bean book because girls always grab it within a day or two. Through the rest off the shelves I go selecting books that I like, that have great covers (How to Steal a Dog), that have great titles (My Sister is So Bossy She Says You Can’t Read This Book), and that have great and/or likeable authors (Grace Lin’s Year of the Rat). Then I stand back and let the magic take over.

Scene: From my vantage point at the information desk I see a boy. He’s drawn to the shelf. The cover grabs him, the title reels him in, he picks up Whales on Stilts! by M.T. Anderson. He skims the inside cover. He takes it away with him.

Magic.

*title credit to Steven Colbert’s book, I Am America (And So Can You!)

Posted by: Pam Coughlan

A man goes into a sub shop — let’s call it Subdays — and finds that they have his favorite deli meat there. Liverwurst. He’s thrilled to find it served and goes back to that sub shop frequently. But one day, he’s in a different area and goes into another Subdays shop and finds that liverwurst is not offered there. They have hummus, but no liverwurst. He’s annoyed at this inconsistency and writes to the head of all Subdays expressing his aggravation. (Stay with me here.)

The president of Subdays can basically do three things. She can thank the man for his opinion, but let him know that the Subdays franchises are run independently and can serve what they choose to serve. She can commission a survey of customers and franchises on the feasibility of serving liverwurst and hummus at Subdays, and turn the data into a sophisticated algorithm showing in which locations liverwurst and hummus should be served. Or she can order the Subdays franchises to stick to the original menu with no substitutions or ethnic variations. Oh, and menus should be displayed four inches from the cash register. (Almost there.)

Now suppose that the managers of the various Subdays earned their graduate degrees in delicatessens. How would they respond? Maybe they’d chose to run a deli in an office building, where they’d have some guidelines, but not so many hard rules. Maybe they’d take their degrees elsewhere — supermarkets perhaps, or entirely unrelated businesses.

Without fitting the analogy too tightly, this is where the public library system finds itself today. They want professional librarians trained to make decisions, but the greater library system holds onto the power. The problem may be less prevalent in smaller library systems, but as the number of branches in a system grows, so does the need to exercise more control over collections, policies, and initiatives. If there is a goal of more consistency for the sake of the patron — and at some level, for the sake of the employees — what happens to the librarians trained to run the show?

Well, some of them leave. The school system can offer a huge competition for librarians who want more authority in their library, with the bonus of better hours and summers off. The most energetic librarians may find the public library system too stifling, and look for work where the fold of the brochure doesn’t need to be a matter for committee. The new graduates may skip the public library altogether and use their degrees in business.

In my large, suburban (unnamed) library system, centralized ordering for books and media seems essential. The job would be too big for any particular branch. However, ordering by the numbers results in some waste and lost opportunities. For example, my branch will get new Magic Tree House books because other libraries had worn-out copies, or because the two-year ordering cycle for the Magic Tree House series indicates that it’s time. But our branch gets lots of donated, new copies of books in this series — certainly enough to replace old or lost copies. Perhaps we’d rather use our funds in this area to replace other titles instead, and in doing so, become more involved in the process.

Brian Kenny, Editor-in-Chief of School Library Journal, recently talked about the issue of centralized ordering in his December editorial. As he says, “There’s no greater experience for new librarians than being responsible for buying front-list titles. It engages them in a continuous learning process as they grow familiar with the review literature, publishers, and trends, on the one hand, and their community and its evolving needs on the other.”

A larger library system can become overly dependent on administration initiatives based on research instead of front-line experience. Even small decisions turn into matters for committee, not individual librarians or managers. Again to offer a true example, while it can be helpful to have a “Lost and Found” policy that covers the entire library system, it also slowly chips away at the authority of professional staff.

The library’s connection to the county or city government can add extra layers of bureaucracy and control. That fold of the brochure issue I alluded to before is real. Our government has determined the acceptable brochure folds allowed by the agencies under its jurisdiction. Single-page flyers are fine, tri-folds are taboo. The paper airplane fold is cause for immediate dismissal. (Okay, I made that one up.)

Consistency does provide benefit and comfort. To return to the Subdays analogy, you know what you’ll find at each sub shop, whether as a customer or an employee. But in submitting the hummus to surveys and the liverwurst to public polling, we’re leaving out not only the diversity of the library, but also the power of making decisions that makes a job feel worthwhile. The public is important, no doubt, but there should be a balance between the desires of a demanding public and the needs of an educated staff. Ultimately, the customer will want both specific services and excellent staff. He’ll want to have his liverwurst and eat it too.

Posted by: Pam Coughlan

Previously, on Black History Month Picture Books, we covered the earlier part of African American history with fiction and non-fiction books that were educational while telling a good story. Now it’s time to march forward in time with historical fiction, biographies, and even poetry. Yes, even poetry.

Langston’s Train Ride by Robert Burleigh, illustrated by Leonard Jenkins (2004) 978-0-439-35239-0

Fantastic illustrations by Leonard Jenkins make this book a pleasure to peruse, no doubt about that. But the reader will also enjoy being taken along on a journey with Langston Hughes as a young man. As he rides on a train across the country, he is moved by the crossing over the Mississippi River. Words and phrases rush into his head, especially the phrase, “I’ve known rivers.” This book is about personal history, about heritage, and about writing. The full poem, “A Negro Speaks of Rivers,” is included at the end of the book, along with a short biography of Langston Hughes.

Dizzy by Jonah Winter and illustrated by Sean Qualls (2006) 978-0-439-50737-0

With rhythmic—dare I say poetic—text, this book brings the world of Dizzy Gillespie to life for those who never experienced the musical revolution of the 1920s. This particular chapter in American history shouldn’t be passed by—and no one can afford to miss it with lively, fresh artwork and passages like, “It was like he had taken a wrecking ball / and SMASHED IN / The House of Jazz, / ’til the walls came tumbling down.”

Jackie’s Bat, by Marybeth Lorbiecki, illustrated by Brian Pinkney (2006) 978-0-689-84102-6

It’s 1947 and Joey is going to be a batboy for the Brooklyn Dodgers. He’s excited about it, but conflicted about the new player, Jackie Robinson. Joey’s father doesn’t think it’s right for a white boy to serve a black man, so Joey steers clear of Mr. Robinson. But as he continues his time with the Dodgers, he begins to see Jackie Robinson as both a baseball player and a man, which brings forth his own feelings of acceptance. The small story of one boy echoes the larger feelings of the world’s response to this revolutionary baseball player. The book includes some biographical information. The soft, watercolor illustrations complement the text perfectly.

Goin’ Someplace Special, by Patricia C. McKissack, illustrated by Jerry Pinkney (2001) 978-0-689-81885-1

It’s the 1950s and ’Tricia Ann is heading downtown in Nashville to go “Someplace Special.” Her grandmother is reluctant to let her go on her own, but when she relents, ’Trica Ann faces a journey of pride, humiliation, encouragement, and ultimately joy as she reaches her destination—the public library, open to whites and blacks alike. The injustices of the segregated south are made all too real with this likeable character facing off against the obstacles. Pinkney’s lovely watercolors bring just the right feeling of the era to the book.

Rosa, by Nikki Giovanni, illustrated by Bryan Collier (2005) 978-0-439-89883-6

The basic story of Rosa Parks is well known, but you’ll think you’re in for something different after seeing the cover of this book with the ominous man looking down at —the whole thing is so in-your-face and bold. The art in this book is evocative, gripping, and Caldecott Honor-winning. Rosa Parks’s personal story moves into her turning point in the civil rights movement and then continues beyond, covering many of the events surrounding her place in history. The text doesn’t complete her biography by any means, but does provide a starting place for discussion of her role and the larger context of the boycott.

Freedom on the Menu: the Greensboro Sit-Ins by Carole Boston Weatherford, illustrated by Jerome LaGarrique (2004) 978-0-8037-2860-8

Connie would love to sit down at the counter at Woolworth’s and have a banana split, but she knows that African Americans aren’t allowed to do that. Living in Greensboro, North Carolina in 1960, she knows her color dictates where she can drink and eat and much more. But things are changing in town with Dr. King’s speech at a local college chapel and Connie’s older siblings joining the NAACP. The paintings in the book capture the sense of emotion, as well as the more tangible evidence of segregation.

I’ve Seen the Promised Land: The Life of Martin Luther King, Jr. by Walter Dean Myers, illustrated by Leonard Jenkins (2003) 978-0-06-027703-1

A straightforward and brief biography of a hero becomes much more than that in the hands of noted author Walter Dean Myers. The content is just enough to introduce young readers to Dr. King and to his accomplishments and struggles, but not get bogged down in many details. The basics of his personal journey are presented along with essentials of the civil rights movement itself. The text is well done, but it’s the illustrations—the powerful, dramatic art—that make this title extraordinary.

Of course, these books are the tip of the iceberg in exploring African American history, but hopefully will motivate young readers to learn more. And just as important, these titles could prove inspiring for teachers, librarians, and parents to seek out books that are not only good for the mind, but good for the soul.

Posted by: Pam Coughlan

This time of year I find myself feeling a vague discomfort. And, no, it has nothing to do with polishing off a box of Thin Mints in two nights. (Don’t judge me!) During the month of February my librarian version of “Spidey sense” is tingling with the vague knowledge that all over America, teachers, librarians, and parents are picking out boring books for Black History Month. I don’t blame them, because I’m sure they are not aware of some of the newer, spectacular titles that are perfect for exploring the history of African Americans. These books cover a broad range of ages in elementary school, but as picture books they keep the storyline tight and the art engaging. For teachers or librarians who want to take the opportunity to educate their students, or for parents who want to open up conversation about their heritage, these are books that don’t put forth pages of facts and dull pictures. No, these are the books that say, “Let me tell you a story.”

Henry’s Freedom Box, by Ellen Levin, illustrated by Kadir Nelson (2007) 043977733X

At a young age, Henry is given to his master’s son and begins work in a tobacco factory. Allowed to marry a slave of another owner, he is torn apart when his wife and children are sold. With the help of a white abolitionist doctor he arranges to have himself mailed to Philadelphia and to freedom. It’s a brave and dangerous escape, and is based on a true story. This book was a Caldecott Honor Book for Kadir Nelson’s stunning and evocative illustrations.

The Escape of Oney Judge: Martha Washington’s Slave Finds Freedom, written and illustrated by Emily Arnold McCully (2007) 0374322252

Oney Judge grew up as a house slave and seamstress for Martha Washington, living with the family in Mount Vernon and moving with the family to the new capital of the country, Philadelphia. As Oney grows into a young woman, she finds out that instead of being set free when her mistress dies, that she will be given to one of Martha Washington’s relatives. She decides to escape and free herself from the grasp of one of the greatest icons of American history. The watercolor and ink artwork complement the story perfectly, and additional information is provided about Oney Judge’s later life.

Only Passing Through: The Story of Sojourner Truth, by Anne Rockwell, illustrated by R. Gregory Christie (2002) 044041766X

Isabella lived a particularly difficult life as a young slave, having been sold three times before she was thirteen. At sixteen, she could do the work of a man, but was forced to marry so she could bear children. Living in New York, she was to become free in 1827 according to the law, though her owner tried to cheat her of her freedom. As she grew older, Isabella grew stronger in her desire to fight slavery however she could and she changed her name to Sojourner Truth and spoke out against the evils of slavery. The illustrations are abstract and interesting, as different and unique as the woman herself.

Night Boat to Freedom, by Margot Theis Raven, illustrated by E. B. Lewis (2006) 0374312664

At his grandmother’s urging, a young black boy rows other slaves across the river and to freedom. While John is strong, it’s thought that he is young enough that his absence at night will go unnoticed. Eventually though, he needs to make the journey to freedom himself and he’s not going without the older woman who has given him strength. Punctuated with passages where the grandmother sews a quilt based on the color the freed slaves are wearing, it lends a poetic sense to the phrase, “What color is freedom tonight?” The illustrations are stunning, bringing into focus the subtle shades of night and the sharpness of color. There’s a two-page spread of slave traders leading the younger Grandmother aboard a slave ship with promises of bright red flannel that is absolutely mesmerizing.

Moses: When Harriet Tubman Led Her People to Freedom, by Carole Boston Weatherford, illustrated by Kadir Nelson (2006) 0786851759

Steeped in the religion that formed a deep influence in her life, this book shows Harriet Tubman’s escape from slavery, led by the voice of the Lord. She subsequently is compelled to go back and rescue her family and numerous other slaves. The story is heavy in its religious tone, though appropriate in terms of her beliefs and experiences. The illustrations by Kadir Nelson are breathtaking, making the Caldecott Honor award for this book well-earned.

Martha Ann’s Quilt for Queen Victoria, by Kyra E. Hicks, illustrated by Le Edward Fodi (2006) 1933285591

In 1830, Martha Ann and her family bought their freedom, and with the assistance of the American Colonization Society, moved to Liberia to live. The children could attend school in Liberia, and they were finally free from slavery in America. Even after a deadly fever took away her mother and father, the children decided to stay in the country far from their home. When the queen of England sent ships to patrol the coast of Liberia to keep slave catchers away, Martha Ann made herself a promise to meet Queen Victoria someday. Through years of waiting and some hard times, Martha Ann never forgot her goal, and worked to make it come true. This book shows a different perspective on this time in history, and offers a lesson in reaching for our dreams.

Show Way, by Jacqueline Woodson, illustrated by Hudson Talbott (2005) 0399237496

This Caldecott Honor Award-winning book is a true stunner in both the illustrations for which it was judged and the text that shapes the stories of generations of African American women. Starting with Soonie’s great-grandmother, who was sold away when she was seven, and left her with muslin, two needles, and red thread from her mama, the story follows the trials and paths of the next seven generations up to the author’s baby. The story covers the “show way” quilts, which were sewn to give other slaves messages to help them on their journeys. The story goes along the path on the Civil War and to a time of reconstruction and then of civil rights. Throughout there are echoes of the quilts from that first piece of muslin and red thread. An amazing and moving book that may have readers tearing up at each repeat of, “Loved that baby up so. Yes, they loved that baby up.”

On Friday I’ll continue with picture books that cover the 1900s and the Civil Rights Movement. Until then, work on making sure the previous seven titles are part of your public, school, and/or personal library.

Posted by: Pam Coughlan