A Hurrah and A Big, Big Question

In the Guardian books blog, Tim Martin ponders the meaning of a Newbery win and writes:

So although it'd be foolish to claim that literary prizes have ever served as much of a guide to anything, here's today's question: how close can we get to a canon in children's literature?

The Newbery Medal used to be quite a decent talent-spotter: in the 70s it awarded top honours to Katherine Paterson's Bridge to Terabithia, Susan Cooper's The Grey King (not as good as The Dark is Rising, I reckon, but there you are), Robert C. O'Brien's Mrs Frisby and the Rats of Nimh and Lloyd Alexander's excellent The High King. All of these authors would appear on my list of the best children's writers: all are still being read and enjoyed three decades later.

In the end he asks:

Should the term "children's literature" even exist at all? Over to you. The canon starts here.

Canon indeed. Read the entire article, entitled Hurrah for Children's Literature, then come back and let me know what you think.

Why I'm Laughing and Crying This Morning

I give myself 30 minutes each morning to read through the new posts in Google Reader. Today I've already laughed and cried, and the inauguration is still hours away. Here's why.

Andi's poem over at a wrung sponge.

Julius Lester posted Thoughts on the Day before the Inauguration. It kicked me in the gut, made me think (as Julius' writing always does) and started big tears rolling down my face.

Neil Gaiman posted Everything you wanted to know about pills and this one dog. I practically fell off my chair laughing at the description of his dog eating the various coatings and spitting out the pill. Been there, done that.

Now to work. Happy Inauguration Day, all!

The Wind, the Words and the Meaning

On this day marking the anniversary of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s birthday, our campus marked the event by sharing his words. In the cold and wind, pairs of students and faculty members stood in highly traveled campus spaces and read from various speeches. My partner and I read the "Give Us the Ballot" address that was delivered at the Prayer Pilgrimage for Freedom on May 17th, 1957 in Washington, D.C.

As I stood in the Forum, the open air plaza overlooking the lake, throwing out his words to the wind and to any passersby who might listen, I was moved by the passion and compassion shown by this man. I was most touched by these thoughts that came near the end of the speech.

Go out with that faith today. Go back to your homes in the Southland to that faith, with that faith today. Go back to Philadelphia, to New York, to Detroit and Chicago with that faith today: that the universe is on our side in the struggle. Stand up for justice.

Sometimes it gets hard, but it is always difficult to get out of Egypt, for the Red Sea always stands before you with discouraging dimensions. And even after you've crossed the Red Sea, you have to move through a wilderness with prodigious hilltops of evil and gigantic mountains of opposition. But I say to you this afternoon: Keep moving. Let nothing slow you up. Move on with dignity and honor and respectability.

Despite the wind and the cold, I was happy to participate. I hope those who heard these words were touched in some way today. I know I was.

The Real Work Begins

I rarely write about religion or politics on this blog, but every so often I am so inspired by the words in a Sunday morning homily that I can't get away from them. These were shared this morning.

When the song of the angel is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the Kings and Princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flocks
The real work of Christmas begins.

To find the lost
To heal the broken
To feed the hungry
To release the prisoners
To rebuild the nations
To bring peace among brothers
To make music in the heart.

Father Fred shared this and told us he first read these words on a card he received years ago from one of his grammar school teachers. My blog searching tells me it was written by Howard Thurman.