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SUMMARY: In this episode we discuss two brilliant and beautiful contemporary picture books that feature Black protagonists: Last Stop on Market Street, written by Matt de la Peña and illustrated by Christian Robinson and Thank You, Omu!, written and illustrated by Oge Mora. Though each book is different in its characters, setting, story, and art, their underlying messages—of community, of service to others, of acceptance and celebration of diversity, and of inclusion—are the same.
We also discuss how by reading these books to our children and by showing them characters who may not look or live or worship or cook or play or speak exactly like they do, we are helping to increase the level of understanding, empathy, and compassion of the future adults that we need to change the world.
Listen to the Podcast Episode:
Books Mentioned in this Episode:
*Last Stop on Market Street by Matt de la Peña, illustrated by Christian Robinson
*Thank You, Omu! by Oge Mora
Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria?: And Other Conversations About Race by Dr. Beverly Daniel Tatum
How to Be An Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi
Little People, Big Dreams Series:
Harriet Tubman by Maria Isabel Sanchez Vegara, illustrated by Pili Aguardo
Martin Luther King, Jr. by Maria Isabel Sanchez Vegara, illustrated by Mai Ly Degnan
Rosa Parks by Lisbeth Kaiser, illustrated by Marta Antelo
Maya Angelou by Lisbeth Kaiser, illustrated by Leire Salaberria
All Kinds of People Shelley Rotner and Sheila M. Kelly
Grandma’s Purse by Vanessa Brantley-Newton
Everywhere Babies by Susan Meyers, illustrated by Marla Frazee
What A Wonderful World by Bob Thiele and George David Weiss, illustrated by Tim Hopgood
Gaston by Kelly DiPucchio, illustrated by Christian Robinson
Antoinette by Kelly DiPucchio, illustrated by Christian Robinson
Carmela Full of Wishes by Matt de la Peña, illustrated by Christian Robinson
Just in Case You Want to Fly by Julie Fogliano, illustrated by Christian Robinson
Another by Christian Robinson
You Matter by Christian Robinson
Saturday by Oge Mora
The Oldest Student: How Mary Walker Learned to Read by Rita Lorraine Hubbard, illustrated by Oge Mora
The Classic Fairy Tales edited by Maria Tatar
The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein
Note: Books marked with * are the focus books of this episode.
Non-Book Resources on How to Talk To Young Children About Race:
NPR Episode: Talking Race With Young Children
NPR Episode: How White Parents Can Talk To Their Kids About Race
Sesame Street CNN Town Hall Coming Together: Standing Up to Racism
PBS: Talking to Young Children About Race and Racism
NYT Article: Talking to Kids About Racism, Early and Often
Podcast Transcript:
Today we are going to be talking about 2 brilliant and beautiful contemporary picture books that feature Black protagonists. The first, Last Stop on Market Street, is written by Matt de la Peña and illustrated by Christian Robinson and the second, Thank You, Omu!, is both written and illustrated by Oge Mora. It’s a critical time for the United States. I’m hopeful that it is the start of real, transformative change in America where we all, first, recognize and face up to the fact that since its inception this country has been both violent and oppressive towards Black and Indigenous people and that this violence and oppression has continued through to this day. Sometimes this racism manifests itself in overt hateful, violent acts like the murder of George Floyd, but just as often it is insidious, structural discrimination where Black and Indigenous people have to endure a lifetime of subtle marginalization and othering. And second, I’m hopeful that we all, as a nation, actually do something about it. It isn’t enough to say Black Lives Matter. We have to work together to actually, actively, consciously, continuously begin to eradicate systematic and systemic oppression. We cannot go back to how it was before. We have to stop passively accepting the status quo and make a new reality that is rooted in equality and justice for all.
So, what I’ve personally been doing this past week is reflecting on ways that I can use my privilege to take meaningful action in my own life. My husband and I have made donations to organizations like the ACLU and the NAACP and to the Conscious Kid Anti-Racist Children’s Book Education Fund which, by the way, is an amazing organization to follow and support, especially if you have children. I’ll link their information in the shownotes. Anyway, in addition to donating and signing petitions and contacting my elected officials and of course voting in the Pennsylvania primary las t week, I’ve been reading books and articles about race, racism, and racial identity to better educate myself. And I’ve also started to talk to my children more openly about what’s been going on and about race in America.
Because I am not a person of color, I might assume that my children, who are almost 4 and almost 17 months old, respectively, are too young to talk to about or even to understand race, racism, or diversity. This is not correct. First of all, deciding when to bring these issues to the attention of my children rather than these issues being forced into my children’s consciousness by society is a privilege and a luxury that I do not deserve and should not expect. Second, it’s important to start talking about race, racism, diversity, and inclusion immediately so that children can also work as accomplices to dismantle institutionalized racism and work on achieving equity, inclusion, fairness, and justice for everyone. Studies show that children start to look more at faces that match the faces of their caregivers by just 3 months of age; by 2 years old, they start using race to reason about people’s behaviors; by two-and-a-half, most children use race to choose playmates; and by 4 or 5 years of age expressions of racial prejudice are often at their peak. So, if you, like me, are one of the privileged people who can decide when to start talking about race to your kids, I think it’s important to do so immediately.
Now, I’m not going to tell you specifically how to talk to your children about race in this episode because, first of all, I am really not qualified to do so and second, I think each family and each child is different, so you need to assess your needs and your child’s needs in order to discuss these topics in a productive way for your family. But I will link some of the resources that helped me talk to my children about race and diversity in the shownotes. Everything from books like Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria?: And Other Conversations About Race by Dr. Beverly Daniel Tatum and How to Be An Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi, to NPR episodes, to the Sesame Street Town Hall that aired last Saturday, to infographics that I’ve found helpful. And I also made a list of 50 Diverse Picture Books that I really like and that we have in our collection at home. We’ve been revisiting many of these books this week, as well as reading some children’s history books that talk about leaders in the African American community and that have helped me better explain the concepts of slavery, segregation, and civil rights to my preschooler. We’ve found the Little People, Big Dreams books that focus on one individual’s life to be really engaging and effective. And I’ve been reading some board books with my toddler, like Shelley Rotner and Sheila M. Kelly’s All Kinds of People , Grandma’s Purse by Vanessa Brantley-Newton, Everywhere Babies by Susan Meyers and Marla Frazee, and, of course, What A Wonderful World, by Bob Thiele and George David Weiss, illustrated by Tim Hopgood which I talked about a lot in Episode 1: Best Board Books for Toddlers if you’d like to hear more about that one. Children’s books are one of the most effective and practical tools to use to initiate conversations about race, diversity, and inclusion, so they are one of the best places to start with young children. I’ll link to the FREE PDF of my list of 50 Diverse Books in the shownotes, too.
I’m also, of course, not going to try to talk to you about the experience of being a Black person in America. Because I’m not a person of color, I cannot speak and I shouldn’t try to speak to that experience. I don’t know what it’s like to have to prepare my kids for what to do and what not to do if they are pulled over in order to make sure they survive the encounter. I don’t know what it’s like to have someone question my intelligence or my acceptance to an Ivy League institution because they can’t believe that “someone like me” could have the brains and work ethic that it requires. And I don’t know what it’s like to have to comfort my child because someone doesn’t want to be his friend because of the amount of melanin in his skin. Those feelings of fear and anger and sadness and injustice aren’t things I have to live with day in and day out. I can escape these feelings and that is yet another sign of my privilege.
But what I can do is use my voice to try to amplify the voices that have lived and do live that experience every day. I can try to center black voices to help shift the public narrative forward by bringing attention to the brilliant and beautiful art that they’ve created in the two picture books that I’m going to talk about today. And in this way, I can hopefully help, albeit in a really small way, to enact transformative change.
So that’s what I’m going to do now. And, just so you know in advance, this episode is just the first in a series that I’m going to do about diverse picture books because, 1) many of them are just amazing books that don’t receive enough attention; 2) I think it can be difficult for parents and caregivers to know where to start since, unfortunately, they were likely not brought up reading diverse children’s books; and 3) most importantly, I think we need to call attention to the fact that we need more authors and illustrators of color, especially in the picture book and younger reader section of the book industry. When I was looking through our books to decide which author and illustrator to highlight today, I was, quite frankly, shocked to see how few of the books that feature people of color were actually written and illustrated by people of color, especially black and indigenous authors and illustrators. I shouldn’t have been shocked—this is something that I should have been aware of and I’m embarrassed that I wasn’t, but in any case, this just has to change and hopefully, if more and more people call attention to this, publishers will make a greater effort to seek out and support more black and indigenous children’s book authors and illustrators.
And just one more FYI: not all of the books in this series are going to be specifically about diversity or racial identity. However, by virtue of the fact that they include characters of color, these issues are also often included in the narratives. In other words, in some of these books, race may come up because that’s the character’s reality and those tensions exist in that reality, but the book itself isn’t primarily about those tensions. And my reasoning for this is that even though I of course think it’s important that we read our kids books that directly confront issues of race, racism, diversity, and inclusion, I also think it’s really important that we read great stories about all kinds of things to our kids that just happen to have a person of color as the protagonist. Especially when our children are young, they need to see examples of all kinds of children in the main role so that they don’t start getting the message that only white characters can be the central focus of a book. Incidentally, this is also why it’s important to read your male children books with female protagonists and read books to your Christian children with protagonists that are Muslim or Jewish or Hindu or any other religion. Reading is the ultimate form of empathy, so it’s great when our kids can get into the minds and hearts of as many different kinds of people as possible, as early as possible.
So, without any further ado, first up is one of my son James’s favorite picture books: Last Stop on Market Street, by Matt de la Peña and illustrated by Christian Robinson. This book is not only one of a very few number of picture books that ever won the Newbery Medal for its text, but it also was named a Caldecott Honor book and a Coretta Scott King Honor book for its illustrations in 2016. My older son James started loving this book when he was around 2.5 years old, and he’s almost 4 now and I think his enjoyment of it has grown even more as he’s gotten older. The target age range is supposedly 3 to 5-year-olds, but I definitely think it stretches a bit in either direction. I can see first and second-graders appreciating this book and older toddlers liking this book, too. My son Luke is almost 17 months old and he is really attracted to the illustrations. He particularly likes the one where CJ and the dog are sitting next to each other with their eyes closed listening to the music. We always spend a lot of time looking at that one before he lets me turn the page.
If you haven’t read Last Stop on Market Street, here is a brief summary: A young boy named CJ and his grandmother ride the bus across their city to the last stop on Market Street, a trip they take every Sunday after church. On this particular Sunday, CJ is isn’t thrilled about it and while en route to their destination, CJ asks his Nana questions about what he notices about their life and their surroundings. He asks her why they have to wait for the bus in the rain, why they don’t have a car, why they have to make this trip every week, and why it’s so dirty over in the part of the city where they get off the bus. His Nana’s creative answers to these questions and the way she approaches everyone and everything they encounter on their bus ride help show CJ the beauty of the world and the people around him and how the small, almost magical moments in life can shift a person’s perspective to one of appreciation and gratitude. When they reach their destination—the soup kitchen where they volunteer every week—and see the familiar faces of the people they serve, both CJ and his Nana remark that they’re glad they came.
So, here’s why this book is excellent and a great choice for your preschoolers, kindergarteners, and early elementary schoolers:
Let’s start by talking about Matt de la Peña’s words and then we’ll talk about Christian Robinson’s illustrations.
First, I love Matt de la Peña’s writing style. It’s so rhythm-based and musical, almost like spoken word poetry, which is actually what de la Peña started out writing before he wrote his first novels. Last Stop On Market Street reads like a poem, but not in a lofty, pretentious way. It’s firmly grounded in reality and that reality is a little bit gritty—I’d say gently gritty. De la Peña describes the city and CJ’s experience almost as if he’s looking back on it with the appreciation we have for hardship once we’ve lived through it and realize how it’s made a positive impact on us, which de la Peña has said is the way he views his own working-class upbringing. This gives the book an optimistic buoyancy, lifting it out of any sort of melancholy that we might assume would be in a book about a journey to a soup kitchen, just as CJ’s Nana makes CJ forget to feel sorry for himself as they travel down Market Street.
I also like the sensory language that de la Peña uses throughout the text, like in one of the first lines where he describes the air outside the church as smelling “like freedom, but also like rain” and later when he describes “the streetlamps lit up bright” and “shadows moving across the wall.” This type of language is awesome in picture books because it’s another way to get the child reader to feel as if they are in the place the author is describing. And if your child can relate to CJ’s feeling of freedom when he gets outside and can imagine that damp smell of rain on concrete, he’s yet another step closer to empathy. To help your child with this, you can ask things like, “How does it smell to you when it rains? What does rain smell like?” And if you have a child on the older end of the age range, you can say, “What do you think he means that the outside air smelled like “freedom”? …Yes, I think so, too! Maybe he was impatient to get outside after being in the church for awhile. When was the last time you were impatient to get outside? … Did the air smell good when you did? … Maybe we can experiment when we go outside for our walk today and see what we smell when we open the door.” And then, when you do go outside, pause and have your child tell you what they smell, or hear, or see. You can obviously do this experiment with a child of any age and it’s a great way to help them increase their descriptive vocabulary words.
I also really like that, along the way, de la Peña describes their encounters with a variety of people who represent the diverse population of their city. These include: the bus driver Mr. Dennis who gives CJ a quarter, a woman in curlers holding a jar of butterflies, the busker who plays his guitar for everyone on the bus, the blind man to whom CJ gives up his seat, and the two older kids listening to music on a phone. There are also a few more people in the illustrations, but I’ll get to them in a moment when we talk about Christian Robinson’s art. Each person is treated with dignity and respect, and no one is valued more or less than anyone else in his Nana’s eyes. When CJ points out their differences or makes a value judgment, like when he remarks that he wishes they had a car, or that he had a device to listen to music like the two older boys do, or asks why the blind man can’t see, his Nana doesn’t embarrassedly hush him or quickly change the subject or anything. Instead, she acknowledges the differences, but doesn’t attach any significance to them that makes the person better or worse than another person. “Some people watch the world with their ears,” Nana responds to CJ. So, what she’s implicitly teaching him here is that if a person is blind and must find another way of seeing with his other senses, that doesn’t make him any better or worse than a person who sees with his eyes. And, similarly, if you don’t have the means to buy a car or an iphone, that isn’t something to be ashamed of. Nana instead interrogates why you need an iphone or a car if there are other ways to listen to music and to get from point A to point B.
And, incidentally, I’ve personally found this to be such a helpful model for the way that I answer questions my son asks about differences. I mean, I think for many of us, when our children bring up differences, especially when they do it loudly and in public, as is almost always the case, it’s uncomfortable for us and we kind of panic in the moment and try to make things less awkward. I think a lot of us have the knee-jerk reaction to first try to silence our child and then immediately try to divert his attention by saying things like, “Shhh, yes, okay, he’s blind. Let’s not talk about that right now, I’ll tell you why later. (loudly) Look at the cute dog he has with him! So adorable!”
Truthfully, this really doesn’t make things less awkward for anyone AND this gives our children the message that difference is something unmentionable or even shameful. Dr. Beverly Daniel Tatum, who wrote the book, Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria?: And Other Conversations About Race did a wonderful interview with NPR where she explains that there’s nothing wrong with children talking about physical differences—they exist and kids notice them just like we adults do—but the question you have to ask yourself is: is there any value attached to that difference or is it being devalued? And if so, you need to break it down for your child and talk clearly about physical differences and the reasons behind them so that you can then build positive awareness of diversity and identity. So CJ’s Nana’s response here isn’t quite textbook perfect because, obviously, it’s a picture book so she doesn’t stop and explain blindness to CJ—but what she does do is clearly and matter-of-factly affirm the man’s difference and neutralizes any negativity associated with it. And, still better, instead of trying to stop CJ from dwelling on the difference, she gives CJ something to think about: that there are different ways of watching the world. And I also like that she and the man share a moment of connection here, when he compliments her perfume and she laughs and squeezes the man’s hand affectionately. Here is a situation that could have been really awkward if Nana had shushed CJ, but instead it turned into a moment of mutual appreciation and connection. And, in the same way, on the next page where CJ remarks about wanting to be able to listen to music like the older boys, Nana’s response that he should ask the man with the guitar to play a song leads to an interlude where the whole community on the bus gets to experience the transcendent power of music together. And this moment lifts CJ out of himself, and out of his surroundings, and out of his self-pity as he gets lost in the sounds he hears filling the bus.
Before we get back to the way de la Peña uses language in this book, just another quick word about the character of Nana. I love that de la Peña chose a grandmother to be the adult in this story because I’m sure many children can relate to having a grandmother, or being raised by a grandmother, like Nana. She reminds me a lot of my Yiayia in the way that she is at once dignified and affable—she greets everyone and makes sure that CJ does too and she’s taught him to automatically give up his seat to a blind man and to give his quarter to a busker, but she’s also quick to smile and laugh and show affection. She’s firm with CJ but also loving and, again, I really like the way she answers his questions, like when he asks why they have to wait for the bus in the rain, she says “Trees get thirsty, too … Don’t you see that big one drinking through a straw?” She’s full of wisdom and creativity and, like all the best teachers and caregivers, she really knows how to keep a child’s attention and get him thinking. Plus, I think a lot of children are like mine in that they really are drawn to stories that feature the bond between grandparents and kids because they have such a close, familiar, and affectionate relationship with their Yiayia and Pappou. So I think having this special relationship reflected in the stories they read really resonates with my children and with a lot of other children and gives them another entry point into the fictional world. (My children are also always peppering my parents with questions to which they always respond with patience and good humor, so that’s another similarity, too.)
Okay, to get back to the language itself—because this book won the Newbery award, there has been a lot commentary on de la Peña’s choice to not have CJ speak the standard English that we usually get in picture books. De la Peña has said in interviews that because CJ is in his most comfortable place, with a person he loves and who loves him, he wanted to use language in a way that felt more authentic to that situation. He has said that if this book took place somewhere more official, like at school or something, CJ would code switch and speak standard English, but since he’s not, he doesn’t. And even though maybe, as his critics say, it doesn’t model correct speech for young children—something for which I’m normally an advocate—I actually think I’m on the side of de la Peña on this because I see it as a really great way to provide an entry point for reluctant readers that allows them to better identify with CJ. A lot of the time, if a book feels too formal, especially if that book is more of a poem than a traditional straightforward narrative (as this book is), or if that book is didactic or trying to convey a message (again, like this book does), it can be a turn-off for small children because it just doesn’t feel genuine. So Ithink by having CJ speak in a more relaxed way de la Peña makes the book more believable and more authentic to the characters and the setting, and at the same time he’s able to remain true to his art and to his message.
And lastly, before we move on to the illustrations, I think the way de la Peña uses language to create a mood, but also to enforce some of the messages in the book is so interesting and effective. For example, when CJ and his Nana finally reach the last stop on Market Street, de la Peña writes:
CJ looked around as he stepped off the bus. Crumbling sidewalks and broken-down doors, graffiti-tagged windows and boarded up stores. He reached for his Nana’s hand. “How come it’s always so dirty over here?”
I like the unexpected, almost accidental-seeming rhymes that slip into the narrative and contribute to this idea that the story is promoting: that there is a vibrant, pulsing, beautiful rhythm to ordinary life that is always there if we take note of it. And then, right after CJ asks this question, his Nana points out a rainbow that’s arcing over the soup kitchen and de la Peña writes:
He wondered how his nana always found beautiful where he never even thought to look. He looked all around them again, at the bus rounding the corner out of sight and the broken streetlamps still lit up bright and the stray-cat shadows moving across the wall. CJ then sees the faces of the people they serve in the soup kitchen through the window and tells his nana, “I’m glad we came.”
So here CJ pauses to think about the way his nana views the everyday, ordinary world and changes his perception to echo and emulate hers: he now sees those things and those people not just for what they are in isolation, but as part of the composition of their community, almost like individual notes that make up a symphony. Disability, poverty, race, diversity—all of these things are addressed in this book, but not in a preachy way, just like Nana herself isn’t preachy. She just gently reminds CJ of the beauty of the world and the beauty in human interactions and also the quiet joy you get when you act in service to others. It’s a beautiful story, and its beauty is enhanced by the gorgeous illustrations created by Christian Robinson that we’re going to talk about now.
Christian Robinson’s illustrations are some of my favorite in contemporary children’s literature right now. I love his bright, bold colors and sharp lines and his use of collage. A few other books that he illustrated that we love in our family are Gastonby Kelly DiPucchio and its companion book, Antoinette; Carmela Full of Wishes which was also written by Matt de la Peña; Just in Case You Want to Fly written by Julie Fogliano; and we also love his books that he illustrated and wrote: Another, which came out last year and You Matter, which came out on June 2nd and which we just received in the mail last Thursday.
In Last Stop on Market Street, I love how Robinson mixes media. The illustrations are mostly done in bright acrylics, but there are elements of collage and even stamped paint, like, for example, on the page where CJ and Nana wait for the bus under a birch tree, which is one of the simpler illustrations, but one of my favorites. I love the reflection of CJ’s bright yellow sweater in the puddle along with the orange umbrella and Nana’s black stockings.
The collage style throughout the entire book makes the lines very sharp and distinct, which really works with all of the other eye-catching blocks of color. And I think Robinson is just a master of composition. All of his scenes are eye-catching and vibrant, but they also have a balanced harmony to them that makes them really pleasing to look at. There’s enough blank space to let your eye wander and appreciate each element before the page turn. It’s a very friendly, cheerful, almost lively style that works really well with the rhythm-based text.
I especially love the two-page spread on the bus where Nana is holding the blind man’s hand. There’s enough space in between each person and each element to let their individuality sink in, but then all of the colors and patterns and textures work so well together that it reinforces this idea of belonging to a community. As your eye moves naturally from one person to the next down the line, seeing their distinctiveness, you also notice how they are part of a whole. So, for example, colors and elements that appear in Robinson’s depiction of CJ and his Nana, like CJ’s bright yellow sweater with the orange and blue stripes on the sleeves and Nana’s bright orange knitting, and her emerald green jewelry, black dress, and white hair also appear in various different forms in the people on the bus. Like, for example, the man’s black glasses match Nana’s dress and his dog’s vest matches CJ’s stripes. And then the lady holding the butterflies has the same shape glasses as the blind man, but she is also wearing a kerchief the same color as Nana’s jewelry. And then the bald man next to her is covered in tattoos the same color as her kerchief and the same color as Nana’s jewelry. And then the woman next to him has stripes on her shirt the same color as Nana’s knitting and the lid of the butterfly jar, and her hair matches the blind man’s glasses and the bald man’s cell phone. So all of these people look radically different from one another, but they still have elements in common which works to support the overall messages of the book. It’s just so masterfully arranged and a real joy to look at.
And what’s also really excellent about this book is the way the illustrations sometimes work to further illuminate the words of the text. Like when CJ asks why they don’t have a car and Nana says, “Boy, what do we need a car for? We got a bus that breathes fire…” and you realize, when you look closer at the illustration, that not only could she be referencing the way the bus splutters and the exhaust shoots out of it, but that there is an actual dragon painted on the side of the bus. It’s such a neat little detail to find!
Speaking of which, I love the other little details that Christian Robinson includes that aren’t central to the story, but that are so fun and interesting for children. Even though his style is seemingly very simple, there is still so much for little kids to look at. When you’re reading this book, you can ask your child to look for the butterflies or see if they can figure out the man’s tattoos or ask them to count the birds or spot the rainbow. And when CJ and Nana see the people in the window waving to them, you can ask your child if she can remember what their names are from when Nana references them earlier in the book. This is a good way to help hone your child’s reading comprehension and memory. And finally, the little vignettes on the bus of the two kids sharing a set of earbuds, and the man whispering to Nana, and, as I said, my kids’ personal favorite, CJ and the dog listening to the music with their eyes closed, are also really attractive to children and help keep their attention.
Before we move on to our next book, I just want to mention that the last page of this book, after the story has ended, is of CJ and his nana sitting at the bus stop waiting for the bus to come to take them home. Again, it’s such a simple composition of elements, but it says so much. In this final illustration the two are sitting side-by-side: Nana is knitting again while CJ is now reading a large orange book that he has propped up on his lap. Both are smiling, happily absorbed in their own work, but also together. I just love this and not simply because I love illustrations with a child reading (which I do), and because I think it emphasizes how special the connection between a grandparent like Nana and a grandson like CJ is (which it is), but also because I think by including this picture at the end, of CJ reading a book that could be Last Stop On Market Street because it’sthe same orange color, Robinson subtly implies to the child reader that reading is yet another way to take you out of your own life and put you in someone else’s. And that experience in and of itself can make you appreciate and value your own life and your own story even more. For de la Peña and for Robinson, books and art were life-changing and a way to carve out a space for themselves, so it’s like they are telling the reader: you can do this too. Which is a really empowering, brilliant, and beautiful way to end an empowering, brilliant, and beautiful picture book.
Okay, so now let’s move on to our second book which is Thank You, Omu! by Oge Mora. This book won the Ezra Jack Keats award, the Coretta Scott King-John Steptoe New Talent Illustrator Award, and a Caldecott Honor. Oge Mora has written and illustrated another book that we really enjoy in our family called Saturday, which is about a mother and daughter’s adventures and mishaps on the special weekend day that they spend together. And we just ordered her third and newest book that came out on January 7th of this year called The Oldest Student: How Mary Walker Learned to Read, which was written by Rita Lorraine Hubbard.
Before I get into this book, I just want to say one thing that I think is amazing about Oge Mora is that Thank You, Omu! is actually a book she started as an assignment for a class while she was still in school at the Rhode Island School of Design. When the students presented their books, an editor from Little, Brown and Company was there and signed her before she even had an agent. And then this book went on to win a Caldecott Honor. So, yes, she is super talented and only at the very beginning of her career, which makes me and my children really excited because that means there are more awesome books to come. I don’t know if you had this experience as a child, but I remember discovering Jane Austen’s novels when I was I think around 11 years old and devouring all of them and then having it dawn on me that she was obviously not going to write anymore books because she died, like, 166 years before I was born. It was super depressing and I remember going to the bookstore for years and always perusing the Austen shelf just to check in case someone found a long-lost novel in an attic somewhere. So, yes, I’m really happy that Oge Mora is just beginning and my children and I have more books of hers to look forward to.
Okay, now onto Thank You, Omu!
Like Last Stop on Market Street, this book also celebrates community and the name of the main character, Omu, is the Igbo word for “queen.” In Mora’s family, however, they also used the term Omu for “grandmother.” This grandmother doesn’t travel on a bus to feed people, her community comes to her, but this story also highlights the beauty of human interactions and the joy of giving to others.
Here is the plot: Omu makes a delicious, thick red stew for dinner, the best stew she’s ever made and, as she waits for it to be dinnertime, its delicious, irresistible smell wafts throughout the neighborhood. One by one, members of Omu’s community come to inquire about the delicious smell and Omu gives each of them a bowl of stew. There’s a little boy, a police woman, a hot dog vendor, a shop owner, a cab driver, a doctor, an actor, a lawyer, a dancer, a baker, an artist, a singer, an athlete, a bus driver, a construction worker, even the mayor. When Omu is finally ready to sit down and eat the stew herself, the bowl is empty. But then she hears a knock at her door and every person she fed that day is at her door. She apologizes that she doesn’t have any more stew, but they tell her that they’re not there to ask, but to give. Each one has brought something for Omu’s meal and they all squeeze into her apartment and eat, dance, and celebrate together.
Both of my children love this book and I think it’s a great one if you have a toddler or if you have older children because it’s simple enough to be understood by very young kids but engaging and thought-provoking enough to appeal to older children, too. To me, this story is like a fresh, modernized version of a classic folktale, which, as a person who taught classes in the Folklore and Mythology Department at Harvard, I obviously love. It’s a story that you can imagine being told orally, passed down by an older generation to a younger one, almost like a parable, but the characters aren’t in the middle of the woods or in a village somewhere centuries ago. Instead, they’re in the middle of a bustling, busy, modern city with hot dog vendors, actors, cab drivers, construction workers, police officers, and athletes. It’s such a refreshing twist on a recognizable pattern, which, incidentally, really complements the way the illustrations are very contemporary, but also reminiscent of something timeless—but more on the illustrations in a minute.
I also love all the repetition in the text that, again, make it reminiscent of a classic. As each person comes to Omu’s door she exclaims, “What brings you to my home?” and the person then asks the origin of the delicious smell and Omu says, “thick red stew.” Then the person sighs longingly, and then Omu asks them if they’d like some, they nod, and then each encounter concludes with: And so Omu spooned out some thick red stew from the big fat pot for her nice evening meal. “Thank you, Omu!” the boy said or the police officer or whichever person said, and went on his (or her) way. There is again a familiar rhythm to these repetitive scenes that reminds you of a folktale or a fairy tale like Hansel and Gretel or Little Red Riding Hood or Goldilocks and the Three Bears. This really appeals to young children who love repetition because they love being able to anticipate what’s going to happen next. When you’re reading, you can pause and have your children fill in the words or say the words together. You can say: And so Omu spooned out some… thick red stew … from the … big fat pot … for her… nice evening meal. Or when you read the lines about the stew wafting out the window and out the door, down the hall, toward the street, and around the block, until… You can have your child call out the Knock! Knock! or, what we like to do is knock gently on the book as we read. It’s just another simple way to keep your younger toddlers entertained by making the story even more interactive and sensory for them. And the number of knocks increases with each character, so that’s another way to add in some counting.
I also like the way Oge Mora delivers the message of this book in a straightforward but really touching way. When she lists all the people that come for stew, she then adds simply, “And each time they knocked, Omu shared.” And then at the end, when Omu apologizes for not having anything left to share, the next line is: The little boy tugged at Omu’s sleeve. “Don’t worry Omu. We are not here to ask… We are here to give.” It’s such a beautiful and poignant moment, but it’s also a simple moment which makes it so great for little kids because they don’t have to try to wade through any metaphors to get to the heart of the matter. They understand sharing and asking and giving as well as the happiness and love that comes with those things.
And incidentally, this may be a controversial statement, but I actually think this is a better version of Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree, which is, of course, THE classic picture book about giving. I like that, unlike the generous, loving tree in that story who ends up as a stump for the man to sit on (in yet another act of exploitation), in this book, generous, loving Omu isn’t left with nothing. I like that the message here is one of mutual appreciation and giving. Omu gives freely, expecting nothing in return, which is, of course, how we should all give, but this story also shows children what should come next: that we should try to pay that kindness and generosity forward to promote a better, more inclusive, more generous, and more joyful community.
And before anyone @s me, I do like a lot of Shel Silverstein’s other works, but The Giving Tree has just never sat well with me, even when I was a child. So in the iconic words of Taylor Swift, haters gonna hate hate hate hate hate but I stand by my opinion of The Giving Tree.
ANYWAY, before we move on to the incredible illustrations, I just want to add two more things:
First, I love that this book, for such a seemingly simple story, includes a lot of advanced words like delectable, scrumptious, simmered, wafted, and delectable that work to stretch your children’s vocabulary. So that language-building aspect also makes it a really excellent choice for a read-aloud book.
And second, I love the whole idea of this book revolving around a woman cooking and feeding her community. Oge Mora has said that initially she was going to include a recipe for Nigerian stew in the back matter, but ultimately chose not to because she thought the book was more about the magical ability of food to bring us together as a community in general thanabout a specific culture’s food. And I love that this is another way Oge Mora provides her readers with an entry point into empathy because everyone can imagine Omu as their grandmother cooking whatever type of stew is traditional to their family and culture. Though, if I’m honest, I have to say that I would actually really love to have that recipe because this book makes me hungry every time I read it. Also, I think this is a really great book to read to your kids at Thanksgiving as opposed to some of the other books that are normally flagged for that holiday. You can also use this book as a jumping off point for an activity to do with your child. My boys really love to play in their pretend kitchen, so we read this book and then they cooked up a delicious pretend stew with their play food and we acted out the story using their dolls and stuffed animals. If you have both a preschooler and a toddler like I do, it’s a fun activity for both of them.
Okay, let’s move on to the gorgeous illustrations which were made out of acrylic paint, china markers, pastels, patterned paper, and old-book clippings. The color palette is really vibrant and warm which Mora has said reflects her Nigerian heritage as well as the African-American community in which she grew up, combining both to create something new but also familiar. I love all the different perspectives that Mora gives us throughout the book. There are close-ups on Omu stirring the stew and on the pot itself when it’s revealed that it’s empty, but also wider views of Omu’s apartment building with different people (and of course the stew!) in the windows, as well as street views where, for example, you see the policewoman pass the hot dog vendor and construction worker with the steaming bowl of stew.
And incidentally, I love Mora’s design for the stew itself, too . She uses a red, floral-patterned paper for the stew, which is then reproduced in the thank-you note from the little boy. To grasp the big iron grey pot, Omu uses potholders that are cut out of map paper—like, for example, one has the city of Newark and its network of surrounding highways and streets. I think this was such a cool choice because if you think about it, it’s as if Mora is implying that all roads lead back to Omu and her pot of stew. Additionally, the way Oge Mora creates the wafting steam of the stew with painted cut and folded strips of paper and how she makes it weave irresistibly through the illustrations of the community is just so masterful.
I am enamored with basically all of the illustrations in this book, but I’ll just talk quickly about 3 of my favorites. First, at the very beginning, I really like that after we get the note to the reader of how to pronounce Omu and that it means “queen” in Igbo, we get this two-page spread of the title page where we see Omu walking towards her building, presumably carrying the grocery bags that contain the ingredients for the stew. I like it because it’s so unassuming, just like a little sneak peek into the life of a woman who looks like an ordinary grandmother going about the everyday task of getting groceries, but then we see in the following pages that this tiny moment led to such an extraordinary day and at the center of it is this woman who is, yes, like a grandmother, but also like a benevolent, generous leader of her community. When you read this book to your children, you can talk about how small, ordinary acts can lead to really extraordinary things if we understand the importance of generosity and giving to others.
I also love the two-page spread that shows all of the people who came to Omu’s apartment. There are so many little details for little kids to see and touch, like the lawyer’s briefcase, the doctor’s gloves and stethoscope, a soccer ball, a tape-measure, and even a recycling bin. I especially like the texture of the taxi cab roof and hood as well as the silhouettes of the people in the window of the bus made out of old-book paper.
And finally, I think the two-page spread where Omu is standing in the dark doorway with the little boy’s hand on her shoulder and outside her door is this collection of people all crowded together waiting to come in and thank her is so moving. Omu—in her bright yellow shirt with her warm brown skin, gold teardrop earring, and white hair—stands out sharply against the greenish black shadows, like she is the source of light in the picture. And the colors of her shirt match the color of the words “WE ARE HERE TO GIVE.” And then you spot the smiling little boy in his bright patterned shirt and then see all of the colors and heights and textures and patterns come together on the next page with the smiling members of her community. It’s a really beautiful and touching image in addition to being artfully composed.
So I think that’s a good illustration to end on. If you haven’t read Last Stop On Market Street or Thank You, Omu! I hope I’ve done their beauty and brilliance enough justice for you to give them a try in your family. I think they are the perfect two picture books to begin this series I’m doing on diverse books because even though the stories are really different, the underlying messages—of community, of service to others, of acceptance and celebration of diversity, and of inclusion—are the same. And by reading these books to our children, by showing them characters who may not look or live or worship or cook or play or speak exactly like they do, we are helping to increase the level of understanding, empathy, and compassion of the future adults that we need to change the world. That’s how it works, doesn’t it? You change one heart at a time, starting with your own. If it doesn’t happen in our hearts and then in our homes, it won’t happen in the world. So we all have work to do.
But for right now, that’s it for this episode of the Exquisitely Ever After podcast. Thank you so much for taking the time to listen to me talk about children’s literature today. As always, please visit the show notes at exquisitelyeverafter.com/episode6 for a complete list of the books that were mentioned today and you can also download my free list of 50 Diverse Picture Books there, too. And if you liked this episode or this podcast in general, please do subscribe, it’s totally free and by subscribing you ensure that you don’t miss any new episodes. AND, if you have a minute, please leave me a review on iTunes. For a new show like mine, it helps SO much. And I’d also love to hear what books featuring characters of color you and your family love. Specifically, I’d love to know your favorite Black authors and illustrators. As I said earlier, there’s really a dearth of books written by Black authors and illustrators for young children especially, so I am always looking to find more great books to build our family library and to bring attention to on this podcast so that I can try to help in a small way to change this. Let me know by sending me an email at christina@exquisitelyeverafter.com or you can dm me on Instagram at exquisitelyeverafter or you can leave me a comment on the blog post for this episode, exquisitelyeverafter.com/episode6. Thank you so much again for listening! Take care, and if you’re out protesting this week, keep safe, and, of course, keep reading!
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