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SUMMARY: In this episode I highlight a picture book that is the perfect read-aloud for a summertime of continued social distancing: Robert McCloskey’s classic, Blueberries for Sal.
We discuss how reading Blueberries for Sal can be a great way to help your child slowly ease into independent play, which is crucial for a child’s cognitive and social-emotional development; we talk about how this book promotes good reading comprehension by allowing child readers to practice using prior knowledge to make informed predictions; and we examine why, though it was written in 1948, this book’s depiction of women and girls isn’t so straightforwardly stereotypical, but instead shows two female characters at work and play in a way that I like, admire, and find empowering as a mother and a feminist.
Listen to the Podcast Episode:
Books Mentioned in this Episode:
Blueberries for Sal by Robert McCloskey
The Whole-Brain Child: 12 Revolutionary Strategies to Nurture Your Child’s Developing Mind by Daniel J. Siegel, M.D. and Tina Payne Bryson, Ph.D.
Elevating Childcare: A Guide to Respectful Parenting by Janet Lansbury
The Montessori Toddler: A Parent’s Guide to Raising a Curious and Responsible Human Being by Simone Davies, illustrated by Hiyoko Imai
Extras:
Chateau Spill Red Wine Stain Remover
Blueberry Crumb Cake/Muffins Recipe
Podcast Transcript:
Today I want to highlight a book that is the perfect read-aloud for a summertime of continued social distancing and that is Robert McCloskey’s classic, Blueberries for Sal.
I don’t know if it’s just my household, but I think we spend the majority of our income supporting our children’s berry obsession. As one of our friends once said, and I paraphrase, “I think it would be cheaper to get Child-Who-Shall-Remain-Nameless addicted to crack than to keep enabling his organic raspberry addiction.” (Obviously, I do not support getting your child addicted to anything except reading, so please don’t @me, but honestly, I felt so seen.)
Anyway, because my boys are so obsessed with berries—James, who is two months shy of 4 years old, likes eating them in their natural form out of a bowl, while Luke, who is 17 months old, prefers them cut in half and spread out before him like an edible rainbow—we spend a lot of time washing berries, eating—well, a more accurate description is gobbling—gobbling berries, and cleaning up after feasting on berries—which as every parent of young children knows, is kind of like cleaning up after what looks like a violent fruit massacre.
And incidentally, if you, like me, fight this laundry battle every day and you can’t get the berry stains out of your child’s clothes, I’m just going to pay it forward to you other laundry-doers out there right now and tell you that there is this stuff called Chateau Red Wine Stain remover that takes those bright red and purple stains right out—I have no idea what they put in it, and I don’t want to know, but it’s miraculous. It’s supposed to be for wine, hence the name, but it works for fruit in its pre-alcoholic form, too. I’ll link to it in the shownotes. And by the way, this episode is obviously not sponsored by whatever company makes this stuff, I just happened across it and it has saved my kids’ clothes.
ANYWAY, where was I? Oh yes. Besides washing berries, feasting on berries, and cleaning up after berry feasting, we also spend a lot of time in our house talking about berries and even dreaming about berries. A real conversation that has occurred more times than I can count is my asking my three-year-old what he dreamed about and him sighing wistfully in response: “Blueberry pancakes…” So, yes, we’re obsessed with berries in our house. And happily, in this most bizarre of years, berry-picking season has coincided with many states, (including ours) moving to yellow and green status. In my family, as of right now, we are still completely self-isolating because we continue to be worried about our kids catching COVID-19 and spreading COVID-19 to vulnerable people. Besides going to my parents’ house where they, being the most incredible people on this planet, built my kids an elaborate playground just so they could watch them play from afar, we literally have not gone anywhere else in over 100 days. However, we have been paying close attention to what epidemiologists are saying are safer activities to do with kids right now and outdoor activities that you do only as a family unit seem to be the ones with the lowest risk. And since we live in rural Pennsylvania, we are so excited because we just found a few farms in our area that are doing outdoor activities and contactless berry-picking sessions are one of them. You bring your own containers and everyone wears masks and gloves and they limit the number of people picking, so, needless to say, my kids are THRILLED because not only will they get to leave our neighborhood for the first time in 3 months, but THERE WILL BE BERRIES. It’s basically their dream come true.
So, in keeping with this berry theme and to get us excited for our first excursion, this past week we have been reading perhaps our favorite book about berries: Robert McCloskey’s Blueberries for Sal. And today I’m going to share with you why we love it so much and perhaps inspire you to do a socially distant berry-picking excursion with your child this summer, too.
Okay, first off, it may seem like a book written in 1948 that depicts very clearly defined gender roles and has only black-and-white illustrations wouldn’t be one of my top picks for a book to read to my two little boys whom I am trying to raise as feminists. But, like when I looked closer and realized that the illustrations are not simply black and white, but rather a delicate cream and deep navy blue (a blueberry blue, if you will) I also realized that this book’s depiction of women and girls isn’t so straightforwardly stereotypical, but instead shows two female characters at work and play in a way that I like and admire.
The story goes like this: Little Sal and her mother go to a place called Blueberry Hill to pick blueberries to can for winter—or rather, Little Sal’s mother is picking to can. Little Sal is pretty much unabashedly just picking to eat. (As I’ve already emphasized, I can definitely relate to having a daughter like Little Sal.) At the same time as the human mother and daughter are picking berries, a little bear and his mother bear come to the other side of Blueberry Hill to eat blueberries to fatten up for winter hibernation. And then a little mix-up occurs. Little Sal, so consumed with eating berries, accidentally gets lost and follows Little Bear’s mother, while Little Bear, also so consumed with eating berries, accidentally follows Little Sal’s mother. The two mothers are, of course, surprised when they realize that the children following them are not their own children, but both children are safely reunited with the correct parent in the end and everyone goes their separate ways, happy and full of blueberries. (Again, for my children, this sentence is redundant. Happiness = being full of blueberries).
So here are the reasons why, besides being chock full of berries, this book is great:
First, let’s talk about the illustrations. As I mentioned, the deep blueberry-ish blue line drawings against the cream backdrop are really striking, while at the same time naturalistic in a way that is appealing for young children. Little Sal, with her chubby cheeks and slightly sunburnt nose, looks like a typical toddler on a typical summer day. I like that McCloskey drew her as sort of vaguely unkempt with her tousled hair and one strap hanging off her overalls in contrast to her mother who is dressed neatly in a skirt and cardigan, her hair combed and parted. You can tell that Little Sal’s mother just accepts that children get messy and lets Little Sal do Little Sal, which is something that I try to remind myself to do on a daily basis with two little boys who inevitably end up with mysterious stains on their shirts before 9 a.m. As the story progresses, McCloskey depicts Little Sal happily absorbed in her “work” (in this case her “work” is munching on blueberries); he shows her figuring out why the sound of dropping blueberries into her bucket changes; and he shows her tramping along through the underbrush, completely unconcerned about time– or the fact that she’s wandered away from her mother and is following an enormous, hungry bear. It’s such a toddler-ish way to be! You can tell that McCloskey has spent a lot of time with small children because in Sal’s expressions and posture he really captures their untroubled, unhurried attitude which can be so bewildering and, let’s be honest, frustrating for parents. How many times have you tried to rush your toddler out the door to an activity that you scheduled for that child, mind you, not for your own health, and he is instead perfectly happy to be sitting on the floor pulling socks out of his drawer or decides that he needs to examine the pattern in the rug as you frantically, repeatedly, urgently intone, “Okay, let’s keep moving, please! Come on, we’re going to be late! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”? Little Sal’s complete unconcern for what’s going on around her as she plonks herself down to munch, casually forgetting her mother’s repeated emphasis that the berries are to be saved rather than eaten, makes me smile to myself as I read it. I see you, Little Sal’s mom. I get why you just continue to pick blueberries while your child gets mixed up with a bear. You’re not irresponsible. You just accepted that Sal is a toddler and assumed she would catch up. No harm, no foul.
Blueberry Hill itself is also beautifully drawn, and I love the two-page spread of the two sides of the hill. On the left is little Sal’s mother, her head bent low to the ground, her hand outstretched to pluck a blueberry with the little bear a few feet behind her, his paw up, his eyes on the pail in her hand. On the right we see the back of the mother bear who is trudging along, the sun shining on her fur, with Little Sal marching along behind her, her bucket dangling, her leg sticking straight out in front of her in that way that toddlers have when they are walking on uneven or unfamiliar ground, but trying to be confident about it. It’s really hilarious if you look closely. And, even though as parent it gives me anxiety, I also love the very next page where Little Sal is crouching directly behind the mother bear, trying to swipe a blueberry right behind the bear’s back left claw. She has her eyes on the bear, but she’s not fearful, she’s just attentive. Like, “Alright, I’m just going to take this one little blueberry… I know I should be saving them for winter, but I’m just going to snag this teensy one, that is, if you don’t think it’s too cheeky of me.” It is so unnerving and humorous at the same time. And kids will love looking at McCloskey’s drawing of the hill and the two sets of parents and children picking blueberries because he gives them a unique, all-seeing perspective that young children don’t usually get to experience because they are so small.
I also particularly love the end pages, the first and last two-page spreads of Little Sal and her mother in the kitchen, canning the blueberries that they picked. I like that McCloskey gives us this homey, comfortable scene twice: once at the beginning to show us the whole purpose for the trip to Blueberry Hill and once at the end to show us the happy conclusion to the story: two people, a parent and child, working alongside each other. The detail of the room is so great for young readers because there are so many things to see that can help the child engage with the story and with you–for example, the old stove, egg beater, and the canning rings, which are objects your child might not have encountered before are things that you can talk about together. You can ask things like: “What do you think those rings might be for?” … Or, “Look in that open drawer! Do you see that thing with the handle? What do you think it does?” The kittens on the floor, the wooden spoon, and the calendar on the wall also seem to be sources of fascination for my toddler that spark conversation between us.
And just one more thing that I like about the illustrations: I find that very small children are just fascinated by the images of the bears in this book. Their coats are so shiny and their faces are drawn in such detail, which isn’t always the case in picture books that often go for cuteness rather than naturalism. So, it’s nice for a change that your little one can get a good, close-up look at an animal that they’re used to seeing in teddy bear form or wearing an overcoat.
Okay, moving on to the story itself and why it’s such an excellent picture book for your family’s collection:
First, the symmetry of the plot gives the story an easygoing, familiar tone that is pleasant and comforting for children. There is a placidness to the story that makes the part where the child and parent are separated not frightening, but instead, humorous to the child reader. My boys both thought it was hilarious that Little Sal and the Little Bear follow the wrong mothers (whereas for us parents it reads like our worst nightmare) and I think the reason that the story can be funny for children is by virtue of its slow pace and circular quality. The child reader knows almost instinctively that Little Sal and Little Bear will be just fine because it’s just that kind of book. And this feeling of security can extend into the child reader’s own life, helping to ease her anxiety about being separated from her parent.
This is a good book to read if you are trying to encourage your shy or clingy child to detach from you a little bit more and explore things on her own. Obviously don’t let her go wandering off on a bear-infested hill, but it’s important to encourage young children to play independently and have mini-adventures on their own, even if you’re still in the room. Independent play is great for building a child’s brain because it fosters creativity and imagination; it helps them learn how to focus and regulate their attention; it helps them develop perseverance and problem-solving skills; it teaches them about trial and error; and last but certainly not least, it builds their confidence in themselves and their abilities to do and figure out things on their own. You want your child to be an independent thinker and there is evidence that the experience of play actually changes the connections of the neurons in the prefrontal cortex, which is the area at the front end of the brain that’s associated with problem-solving, decision-making, and emotional regulation. Playing independently without the sort of encircling structure that adults can impose helps promote creativity, flexibility, and adaptation. So, in other words, when kids play by themselves or when they play with other children without adult intervention, they learn how to be creative, how to be flexible, and how to adapt to any challenges that arise. These proficiencies are crucial in later childhood and in adulthood, so it’s great when your child can start learning and practicing these skills early on.
And just to put this into practice: Reading a book like Blueberries for Sal can be a great way to help your child slowly ease into independent play. You can read the book and then give your child a little bucket or pail and go outside and see what they’d like to collect in it. My kids love to pick dandelions or rocks or, in the fall, they love picking up fallen leaves and putting them into their buckets. At first, you can sit next to your child or walk next to her as she collects things, but then gradually let her go farther afield from you. Obviously make sure she’s safe and comfortable, but try not to intervene or give her instructions or commands as she goes around picking things up and putting them in her pail. If she abandons the pail altogether and starts playing something else, as long as it’s safe, that’s great, too, so let her continue to play by herself without interruption. Practicing playing independently like this with you still in the vicinity will help her gain the confidence and self-reliance that she will need when eventually you’re not in the vicinity, like when she goes to school.
In case you’re interested and want to learn more about all of this, there are a few excellent parenting books that have taught me a lot about the benefits of independent play, like The Whole-Brain Child by Drs. Dan Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson, Elevating Childcare by Janet Lansbury, and The Montessori Toddler by Simone Davies, which is beautifully illustrated by Hiyoko Imai. I’ll link them in the shownotes.
Okay, back to Blueberries for Sal:
Additionally, because of the symmetry in the actions of the two “children” in the story (i.e., Little Sal and the bear-cub), child readers can also practice using prior knowledge to make predictions about what is going to happen next—a necessary skill that helps promote good reading comprehension. When you’re reading this book to your child, you can help her to notice the way Little Sal’s actions are repeated by the little bear and how Little Sal’s mother’s actions are repeated by the mother bear. For example, when Little Bear also finds himself separated from his mother and starts to look for her and hears a rustling sound, you can ask questions like, “Do you think that noise is Little Bear’s mother or something else? …Something else?… Yes! You’re right!” But it was a mother partridge and her children. They stopped eating berries and hurried away. “Oh dear! This time it’s anotherkind of bird, a partridge, not a crow and still not the right Mommy. Let’s see what happens next.” Then he heard a noise in the bushes and thought, “That is surely my mother. I will hustle that way!” “Do you think it’s his Mommy? … You don’t? Who do you think it is? … Yes! You’re right!” But it was Little Sal’s mother instead! She was walking along picking berries and thinking about canning them for next winter. “Do you think Little Bear will follow her? You do? Let’s keep reading and see…” Little Bear hustled right along behind. “You were right! Oh my goodness, that is so funny, Little Bear’s following the wrong Mommy, too, just like Little Sal’s following the wrong Mommy! What do you think is going to happen next?” And you and your child can even imagine alternate scenarios for the end of the book—although, because this book is about bears and children, proceed with caution because this could really go south quickly… But a positive scenario could be: “Wouldn’t it be funny if Little Sal and her Mommy invited the bears to come home with them to make jam? … What do you think would happen if a bear tried to make jam? … Yes, I think it would be really messy, too!”
These kinds of conversations help engage your child as you read, helping her to pay attention and also make sense of what you’re reading. And, crucially, they also enable your child to have more control over the reading experience because she is no longer just passively receiving the story, but actively taking part in how the story is told and how it unfolds. Every time your child makes a guess or imagines an alternate scenario, she changes her experience with the book and gives it new and deeper levels of meaning, which I think is pretty great for a book that’s ostensibly just about picking blueberries.
And speaking of blueberries, let’s talk about the wonderful “kuplink, kuplank, kuplunk,” that represent a sound, heard (in this case, the sound that’s being heard is blueberries dropping into a child’s bucket). I love that McCloskey zeroes in on something that small children do every day, which is to notice, contemplate, and appreciate a thing so ordinary that it escapes our adult conscious thought. Little Sal drops her three blueberries into her little tin pail and the successive dropping makes the sounds “kuplink, kuplank, kuplunk!” And then, when she drops a berry into her mother’s pail, the narrator tells us that she didn’t hear “kuplink!” because the bottom of the pail was already covered with berries. I find that these descriptions of the sounds of the blueberries really delight young readers because they like to mull over things like this and see if they’re actually true in their real lives. After our first reading of this book, I heard my own toddler throughout the week dropping things into various vessels and happily saying to himself, “kuplink, kuplank, kuplunk!” And this part of the book provides a really great talking point about the physics of sound, which helps small children learn about the world around them. You can chat with your child about what sounds different things make when you drop them and why. Like, for example, you can ask your child “Why do you think an orange, which is the same shape as a blueberry, makes the “kuplunk!” sound right away when you drop it in a pail, versus a blueberry that makes a “kuplink!” sound? Do you think it does that because it’s a different color? … No? … Is it because the orange is heavier? Is it because it’s softer? … Let’s try a grapefruit and a cherry next and see…” You can find different objects in your house (non-breakable of course) and take turns dropping them into a pail or a bucket or whatever you have on hand and experiment with the sounds they make.
And also speaking of great conversations that can be sparked by this book, you can use Blueberries for Sal as an introduction to hibernation and explain why bears have to fatten up before the winter. Small children find it really fascinating and almost absurdly humorous that some animals sleep all winter long. You can chat about other animals that hibernate; what they do to prepare for the winter season; how they manage to hide themselves for months at a time; how they stay alive without eating/drinking regularly, and so on. But incidentally, if after over 3 months of isolation hibernation talk has become a trigger for you, you can skip this chat or, again, just proceed with caution.
Anyway, when James was a toddler, he and I also had a really great conversation about canning and other things that can be done with the picked blueberries beyond immediate ingestion. James was incredulous at this proposition at first, but when I said that we could make a cake or muffins with the berries, he was definitely on board. This book is also a great way to introduce or build upon a fun activity that you can do together. We’re planning to pick blueberries because blueberries are almost in season here, but you could read this book and then go pick any fruit (or vegetable, for that matter) that is in season at a local farm or orchard. OR, to simplify things if you don’t live near an orchard or farm, you could also just go to a grocery store or farmer’s market and have your child help you select some berries to bring home and either can them or make something else delicious with them. After all, the beauty of reading the picture book is that you don’t have to go to Blueberry Hill yourself; you can live vicariously through Little Sal and her mother. And added bonus: no risk of bears! If you do go to a blueberry patch or an apple orchard or whatever, you can use the book as a way to enrich your experience by having your child drop the fruit into the pail or sack or basket and listen to the sound it makes, or talk about the plants and animals you see around you, and so on. And then, when you get home, you can involve your child in whatever you’d like to do with the berries, even if it is just washing them together and then eating them immediately. I find canning fruit with small children underfoot to be a bit of a stressful endeavor (another reason Little Sal’s mom is to be admired) and my children prefer a more immediate culinary experience anyway, so we’re planning on making the blueberry muffins we love instead.
And just FYI in case you want to know, when we make blueberry muffins we use a recipe for blueberry crumb cake from a blog called Smitten Kitchen and IT. IS. AMAZING. Just the right amount of sweetness, not too ridiculously unhealthy for children (but, you know, it IS a cake, so, let’s just relax and live a little bit), and it has a gorgeous crumb topping, and, most importantly, it’s absolutely stuffed with blueberries—delicious! It’s also super easy to make which translates into the perfect baking project to do with children. My toddler and preschooler love making the crumb topping as I work on the main part of the cake and then they pour in the blueberries and help me smooth the batter in the tin with their mini-spatulas, and then I supervise while they sprinkle the crumb on top. Like I said, we actually prefer to make this cake into muffins and the recipe translates really well into this form, too. You really don’t have to do anything differently, just obviously bake them for less time (with our oven, it’s usually about 22 minutes), but I like to increase the topping by half just because more topping = more deliciousness and we use muffin liners to make it easier to pop them out of the tin. In any form, this recipe is perfection and my family and I HIGHLY recommend it. Yay for Deb at Smitten Kitchen! I’ll put a link to this recipe and her blog in the shownotes.
Okay, finally, to return to my thoughts on this book and gender norms: As I mentioned at the beginning of this episode, gender norms are definitely adhered to in this book. Little Sal’s mother seems to be Little Sal’s primary caretaker and in charge of the cooking in their home (although, who knows, she could be a successful female entrepreneur who happens to have a day off and penchant for jam-making. That’s how I choose to imagine her.). In any case, this doesn’t particularly bother me as I am my children’s primary caretaker and I also do pretty much all of the cooking in my house because I actually really enjoy it and find it to be a creative outlet, while my husband prefers to do the dishes. But what does irk me as a thinking woman and as a feminist is that, according to the text, Little Sal’s mother doesn’t think about anything other than canning the blueberries for the winter during the entire excursion on Blueberry Hill. I mean, there was a lot going on in 1948! Let the woman have another thought other than making jelly! Ugh. I obviously realize that McCloskey wasn’t intentionally being sexist and that he was just trying to create symmetry and repetition in his text, and that Little Sal’s mother’s thoughts about, you know, say, Truman signing the Marshall Plan, or hearing the entirety of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony played on television for the first time, or the first monkey astronaut, or the second-ever peacetime military draft being issued weren’t going to add anything to the text and, you know, might even take away from its tranquil tone, but if I could, I would just omit those lines about the mom obsessively cogitating on the canning process altogether.
HOWEVER, as I mentioned before, I have actually circled back around to admiring Little Sal’s mother and Little Sal as much as I did when I first read this book as a child and I didn’t know about the subtle indoctrination of gender norms. First of all, I actually learned how to can berries and, you know, it’s not rocket science, but it isn’t just a mindless task either so, maybe little Sal’s mother was canning for the first time and she was thinking through all the steps to make sure she was going to nail it on the first try—who knows? Second, now that I have my own children, I realize that Little Sal’s mom is kind of a badass? I mean, when you think about it, seriously, Little Sal’s mother has NERVES OF STEEL. She turns around to realize that her child has been replaced by a BEAR and what does she do? She reacts calmly and rationally. “Oh, I thought that bear was my daughter, but nope. My bad. It’s a chubby little bear. And by the way, where is my daughter? Probably lost on this bear-infested hill? No problem. I got this.” I mean, that serenity under those circumstances in and of itself is amazing. And then she goes quickly but without frenzy to find Little Sal, she locates her child in pretty record time and THEN (and this I find particularly heroic) manages not to FREAK the you-know-what out on said child for not listening to her and instead following a BEAR, and THEN–here’s the kicker—does Little Sal’s mom grab her daughter and rush down the hill to the car to get the heck out of there ASAP and go home to have a nap (or a drink… or a sedative)? Nope. Not Little Sal’s mother. She finishes blueberry picking like the BADASS she is and THEN she goes home and tackles canning those berries with the very toddler who would have given any other parent or caretaker cardiac arrest. I mean…What. A. Legend. There was a lot going on in 1948. Maybe I should just give this #boss of a woman a break and pretend that she was only ruminating about canning because the “Calm” app wasn’t invented yet and she knew that clearing your mind for daily meditation is the key for mental and physical health. I salute you, Little Sal’s mom.
And to get a bit more serious as I end this episode and to give you my last thought on this topic: I also love that McCloskey treats Little Sal not as a little girl, but simply as a little person. Little Sal isn’t dressed in a particularly feminine way, she isn’t worried about getting messy, she isn’t obedient, she isn’t scared, and she isn’t at all apologetic for her curiosity. And I think if this book had been written and illustrated by someone else at this time, Little Sal probably would have had at best one of these gender markers, or, at worst, all of these gender markers. I like that the point of the adventure wasn’t to make Little Sal into a sweet, obedient, stereotypical kind of female and that Little Sal’s mother doesn’t expect her to be one, either, which is why she doesn’t berate her. She just accepts that all kids are curious and doesn’t stamp it out of Little Sal. It’s refreshing and, especially for young female readers, empowering.
So those are my thoughts on Blueberries for Sal and that’s it for this episode of the Exquisitely Ever After podcast! Have you read Blueberries for Sal? How do you feel about the way McCloskey handles these two female characters? And what are some of your favorite books for this time of year? I’d love to know so please send 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 at exquisitelyeverafter.com/episode8. And if you have a minute in between social distance berry picking excursions or zoom summer enrichment programs, please leave me a review on iTunes, for a new show like mine it helps enormously to get my podcast into the ears of more people. And if you haven’t yet downloaded my FREE PDF of 50 Diverse Picture Books, I’ll put a link to that in the shownotes, too. Thank you all so much for taking the time to listen to me talk about children’s literature today! I really appreciate it! Take care, keep safe, and of course, keep reading! Just a little P.S. and PSA. It should go without saying, but if you live in a place where a run-in with actual real-life bears is a possibility, definitely talk to your child about not following those bears around some hill looking for berries. Sharing is not caring in this instance, obviously.
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