Diversity in Kid Lit was ‘On Fire’ at National Latino Children’s Literature Conference

My signed conference poster! The gorgeous artwork comes from Laura Lacamara's new book, Dalia's Wondrous Hair.

My signed conference poster! The gorgeous artwork comes from Laura Lacamara’s new book, Dalia’s Wondrous Hair.

By Lila Quintero Weaver

Let me float down to earth, grab a keyboard and pound out a report about the National Latino Children’s Literature Conference. That was my self-talk on March 15. The two-day conference, held at the University of Alabama and headed by mover-and-shaker Dr. Jamie Naidoo, had wrapped up at 4 pm the previous day.

Sixteen hours later, my whole being still felt tingly with the residual vibrations of what we’d experienced: great dialogue, stimulating talks, and warm connections with people passionate about the same thing, increasing diversity in children’s books. And it’s amazing how many presentations referenced last year’s incendiary New York Times article on minority characters in kid lit. The conference stirred my juices, but before I could touch my keyboard to write about it, Marianne Snow posted a great recap on her blog. There’s no way that I could improve on her account. 

That’s not the end of the story. Over the same weekend, The New York Times published a pair of essays from prize-winning YA author Walter Dean Myers and his son Christopher, an author-illustrator of note, on the scarcity of characters of color in children’s books. Spine tingling, timely, and powerful. Clearly, diversity in children’s books is a topic on fire!

And now, back to the conference. Since Marianne’s recap covers only the second day, here are select quotes and highlights from the first day:

NLCLC LogoLiterary agent Adriana Dominguez outlined some of the challenges facing Latin@ children’s literature: “Many editors think about Latino books as niche or institutional.” Neither of these spells the huge sales figures that the industry has become hungry for. She pointed to the Harry Potter phenomenon as a watershed moment in children’s publishing. Previously, marketing departments targeted libraries and schools, but the commercial success of Harry Potter and other blockbusters has shifted the dynamics.

Members of the audience asked how to best advocate for Latin@ children’s literature. Librarians can push these books, Dominguez said. She cited the late Rose Treviño as a personal mentor and a role model in the field of library services to children. Ms. Treviño was a beloved Houston public librarian who served the local Latin@ community and brought Latin@ books to the attention of a wider audience. Her passionate advocacy was captured in this extensive interview by Cynthia Leitich Smith.

Someone else asked, would more Latinos on the “inside” of publishing help to balance the equation? Yes, Dominguez said, because “you’re a stronger advocate for something you truly believe in.” She pointed out that graduate programs in publishing are recruiting zones for the “big five.”

In her keynote, recent Pura Belpré winner Meg Medina raised the topic of universal themes, those that address the experiences of all children, regardless of demographic labels. She reminded us that “Latino” is a uniquely American concept. Many Latin@ children grapple with the additional challenges of biculturalism. She shared that in her work, she strives to present a range of Latin@ characters, a “whole tapestry,” not merely those that the public has come to expect. (In her Monday post, Meg offered a terrific conference recap of her own.)

7789203Author-illustrator Laura Lacámara gave the day’s final keynote. Her journey into publishing has taken some interesting turns. She was first an illustrator of children’s books. Then came her debut as a writer, Floating on Mama’s Song, a story inspired by her mother’s devotion to opera. But Laura didn’t illustrate it; Yuyi Morales did. Now, hot off the presses is Laura’s newest book, her first to write and illustrate, the delightful Dalia’s Wondrous Hair (see the conference poster image, above). Count on a book talk in the near future!

The variety of breakout sessions boggled the mind. Thursday, I sat in on Lettycia Terrones’s illuminating talk on image-making in Latin@ children’s literature, followed by Araceli Esparza’s “Roots of Race in Chicano/Latino Picture Books,” another enriching experience. The next day, I heard an expert presentation by Catalina Lara on the Latin@ child and language.

Social media is an excellent tool, but let’s not forget the value of face-to-face meetings. They spark connections like nothing else. Next time you hear about a conference that addresses diversity or Latin@ children’s books, consider attending.

Immigrant Stories and My Long Night in the ER

Sketch by Lila Quintero Weaver

Image by Lila Quintero Weaver, ©The University of Alabama Press

By Lila Quintero Weaver

I have long been riveted by immigration stories.  These days, my focus has turned to immigration’s impact on Latino children. I was an immigrant child. With my family, I bade farewell to our relatives, native culture and language, and set off into the unknown. Nearly all immigration stories hold these elements in common, but I have a growing preference for reading about journeys that only faintly resemble mine. They expand my understanding of current immigration issues and make me feel more connected to the wider Latino community.

My family emigrated from Argentina in 1961. We landed in Alabama. Latinos were rare in the American South back then, and in our new home the prejudice we encountered was subtle—especially taking into account the intense racial bigotry that vented its full force on African Americans, and which I, for one, was horrified to witness.

Things have changed in the South lately—indeed, across America, as the immigration picture grows ever more complicated. New stories are bound to emerge from these troubled times. My eyes are peeled for them, mostly because of what I’ve seen in my backyard.

The shift in Alabama’s tolerance for outsiders came home to me one summer night in 2005, during a five-hour stretch in the emergency room. Earlier that evening, floaters sprang up in my field of vision. These are sometimes an early warning of retinal separation. The ER physician couldn’t tell me much. He instructed me to see a specialist the next day. Good news: no retinal tear.

Now for the bad news. During those long hours in the waiting room, I caught wind of  heightened anti-Latino sentiment. Out of approximately 60 people seated in the waiting room, fifteen or so were Mexicans or Central Americans. Some spoke no English, and the ER was not prepared. When I overheard halting communication between one Spanish speaker and a flustered triage coordinator, I volunteered to interpret. Soon after that, other Latinos sought my help, including a young couple with a feverish baby. They had returned to the ER a second day in a row and after a long wait, still had not been attended. They feared they were being discriminated against. I checked with the receptionist and managed to resolve their concerns. So it went. My long wait turned into a flash education on the lives of recent immigrants.

As the evening wore on, I overheard white people sitting nearby making snide comments about the Latinos. Some even put on faces of disgust. My heart sank. Alabama had reached a tipping point, I realized. It was no longer the Alabama that my family encountered in 1961, curious about foreigners, but not threatened by us. And by us, I don’t mean that I perceive myself to be a target of revived bigotry. My complexion is too light to draw notice. And my English, correct and unaccented, slips past the radar of most bigots.

But never mind all that. Injustice against anyone offends me, and racial injustice boils my blood.

Alabama’s overall tolerance of brown-skinned people began to crumble in the years that followed my visit to the ER. A recent influx of Hispanic immigrants to the state—the Latino population almost doubled between 2000 and 2010—has stirred the ancient fires of bigotry. I started hearing misinformed grumblings about “illegals” milking public assistance. In the local newspaper, letters to the editor railed against Spanish signage. Recently, a candidate for governor ran on the promise to revert driver’s-license tests to English-only. Meanwhile, farmers, foresters, landscapers, roofers, and other business owners countered that Latino employees demonstrated superior work ethic. We want them here, they said.

Somehow bigotry won out, culminating in the 2011 passage of HB 56, the harshest anti-immigration law in the United States, modeled after legislation in Arizona. Immigrant communities, civil rights activists, and religious and economic sectors around the state raised an outcry before the bill was voted into law, but the legislative body had its mind made up. As a result, thousands of recent immigrants fled the state. Ultimately, federal courts diluted the law and Latinos with strong community ties and business connections returned.  

My alarm over the plight of new immigrants took me on a circuitous route to Latino children’s literature, where I’ve discovered a strong body of immigration stories. As an immigrant, I’m finding familiar ground and fresh exposures. I’m most riveted by the contrasts, and few stories present sharper contrast to my family’s safe passage than the books I’ve been reading lately.

Pancho Rabbit cover

This January, I read La Línea, by Ann Jaramillo, and Pancho Rabbit and the Coyote, an allegorical picture book by Duncan Tonatiuh. Both deal with the fictional experiences of undocumented immigrants. (Check back soon for corresponding book talks.) The power of these narratives has led me to Enrique’s Journey, a highly acclaimed 2006 nonfiction work by Sonia Nazario that follows the arduous journey of a Honduran teenager through similar territory. In 2013, an adaptation for young readers was released, and that’s the version I’ll discuss in an upcoming book talk.

Recently, The New York Times reported on the scientific connection between reading literary fiction and the development of “empathy, social perception and emotional intelligence.” How does this transformative effect take place? Good literature narrows the gaps that exist between us and the “other.” When a character is well crafted, we don’t have to share everything in common with her to enter her point of view.

Empathy, or at least clearer understanding of the human issues involved, could make a night-to-day difference in our society’s attitude toward new immigrants. Last year, I was pleased to spot a bestselling immigration story, Esperanza Rising, on the official school-designated summer reading shelf of my local Barnes & Noble. I would love to see more immigration titles added to reading lists and classroom settings, especially those that humanize current-day migrants. In fact, if I had one additional wish regarding these books, it’s that parents would read them alongside their children. Call me a dreamer, but I believe a steady consumption of strong immigration stories could help us stem the tide of xenophobia and fortify America’s claim on the proud distinction, “a nation of immigrants.”

——————–

And now for some related immigrant stories, told through the power of music. A music video directed by Alex Rivera for Aloe Blacc’s hit song “Wake Me Up,” features actual Latino immigrants reenacting the heartbreak of separation and the joy of reunion. The singer is of Panamanian descent.

Read more in Colorlines, where you’ll find a link to a second Alex Rivera music video on immigrant life, “El Hielo,” sung by La Santa Cecilia.

Writing Tips and Diversity Points at the SCBWI Winter Conference

By Cindy L. Rodriguez

The Winter Conference of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators in New York is kind of like a massive family reunion, with all 1,000+ people having a love of children’s literature in their blood. It’s very cool for me to break away from my full-time day job as a middle school teacher and attend this annual gathering of creative people who all want to be published or work in some capacity with kid lit. While this love of children’s literature is the common denominator at the conference, the attendants are diverse people with myriad interests. Because of this, my ears naturally perk up when speakers address diversity in publishing.

The SCBWI did not have a specific panel or break-out session dedicated to diversity in children’s publishing, but speakers included Raul Colón, Shadra Strickland, Jack Gantos, and Nikki Grimes. Also, the topic of diversity popped up throughout the conference as writers, illustrators, and editors offered great advice about craft.

During her Saturday session, Anica Rissi, an executive editor at Katherine Tegen Books, outlined seven essential things to remember about writing contemporary fiction.

  1. Just do it: write regularly. Make time for this in your life. Be fierce in protecting your writing time.
  2. Give the reader something to wonder about.
  3. Start with the story, not the back story. Throw us into the action.
  4. You need both external and internal tensions, a plot arc and an emotional arc. You need that emotional growth.
  5. Details should matter. Ask what is this book really about? Is every scene a part of that? When in doubt, take it out.
  6. You need to bring out relatable truths through your characters. Create timeless and timely essential relationships and show how the relationships change the character. During this part of her talk, she said, “Please don’t just write about white people and please don’t just write about straight people.” She added that diverse characters should not always be the “token best friend.” A writer should make every person in the novel “a real person,” she said.
  7. World building exists in contemporary fiction, too. Setting needs to be a character.

Later, Nancy Siscoe, a senior executive editor with Knopf Books for Young Readers, discussed seven essential things about writing the classic middle grade novel. They are:

  1. Audience: middle grade fiction is for readers 8-12 years old. It’s an age of independence, of becoming a person separate from your family. It’s an age of enthusiasm, optimism, and openness.
  2. Plot: Put your kid character in charge. Let them solve their own problems, keep them moving, keep the stakes high.
  3. Hope: You don’t need a happy ending, but you do have to have hope.
  4. Likeable characters: You want a main character your readers would want to be friends with, someone they will care about.
  5. Voice: Make it distinctive. It’s the quality that sets the tone and sets your book apart from others.
  6. Read it aloud: The writing should be smooth, clean, and clear. Middle grade books are often read aloud, so try it while writing.
  7. Heart: The quality that makes your own heart feel bigger and wiser and stronger for having taken the journey.
Some of the Latin@ titles at the book sale

Some of the Latin@ titles at the book sale

During her talk, Siscoe was asked about diversity. She responded by saying she is always on the lookout for diverse main characters. In fact, she said a “selling point” for the novel Unusual Chickens for the Exceptional Poultry Farmer, a middle grade debut by Kelly Jones set to release in 2015, was its Latina protagonist.

The final panel on Saturday was about book banning rather than craft. Susanna Reich, chair of the Children’s and Young Adult Book Committee for PEN American Center, floored me during this session. She said children’s and young adult books make up the vast majority of books on the ALA’s list of banned and challenged books. While I knew children’s books were often challenged, I didn’t realize that on the most recent list of the “Top 100 Banned/Challenged Books” from 2000-2009,” 72 of the top 100 are children’s and young adult books, with Harry Potter at the top of the list.

Reich also made the point that censorship isn’t only about removing books from shelves. Censorship also occurs when so few diverse titles make it onto the shelves. “It’s a form of censorship when the amount of multicultural kid lit published hasn’t increased in twenty years,” she said.

But what about those books that do make it onto the shelves? Well, it’s up to us to buy them. Reich quoted poet Alexis DeVeaux, who said, “Buying a book is a political act.” Reich challenged each of us to think about the books we choose to buy and read. Do we censor our book buying in any way? Do we make a conscious effort to read beyond our comfort zones? Do parents and teachers select books for their children and students that include diverse characters?

Multicultural books can speak to all kids, not only kids of color,” said Reich.

Hear, hear! More details from Reich’s talk can be found here on the SCBWI site.

At the end of an SCBWI conference, I am always exhausted in a good way, with a thousand things to consider as a reader, writer, parent, and teacher. This year, the speakers in the sessions I attended reinforced the idea that I can help to promote diversity in children’s literature in each of these roles. Not only can I broaden my own reading interests, but I can expand reading choices for my daughter and my students. By doing this, I will support diversity in kid lit and the members of my SCBWI familia who write, illustrate, edit, and publish books with diverse characters.

The Road to Publishing: One Take on Working with a (Rock Star) Editor

By Ashley Hope Pérez

In articles and blog posts about breaking into the world of publishing, the lion’s share of attention goes to the writing craft, getting an agent, and securing a book deal. But what happens after those hurdles have been jumped? What can writers expect from their editors once the deal is sealed? And what will editors expect from writers?

The Knife and the ButterflyBecause writer-editor relationships are endlessly varied, I don’t actually have the answers to these questions. In fact, as I started writing this post, I realized that the only thing I am really qualified to talk about are my experiences working with Andrew Karre, my editor at Carolrhoda Lab. Andrew bought my first two novels, What Can’t Wait and The Knife and the Butterfly, in a two-book deal back in 2009, and now I am in the beginning stages of working with Andrew on a third novel. I can’t say what it’s like for other writers, although you can find some descriptions of authors’ experiences with editors, my favorite being the five perspectives offered up hereWhat Can't Wait

For the editor’s perspective, check out this post from Scholastic imprint editor Cheryl Klein, who also has a book on editing YA. Andrew will stop by the blog on Thursday to toss in his two cents on editorial work; if you want to balance some of my gushing below with more objective reporting, you can read this feature on him in Publisher’s Weekly.

Enough preliminaries. Here’s the scoop I can offer on working with my editor.

What happens after you sign the contract with a publisher? Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. I remember expecting to hear from Andrew the day after the contract was signed, but often there’s a considerable lag (months, friends) between sealing the deal and getting the feedback that will guide the revision. Editors are working on dozens of projects—all in different stages—at any given point. The good ones are expert at juggling these demands and giving each project what it needs.

Isn’t it painful to be told how to revise? To start with, I have to say that Andrew is as close to my “ideal reader” as I expect ever to find. With all three novels, he has grasped the essential aspects of the projects as well as (or better than) I did myself. This fact secures my total confidence in his intuition and editorial recommendations; on top of that, I’ve benefitted from his ability to see subterranean connections that invited development as well as other missed opportunities. So even what might have been “pain” in the process invariably felt crucial to the mission of making the book what it was meant to be.

keep-calm-and-revise--718I should also say that the thought of revision is what gets me through the agony of drafting; revision is my happy zone, where things finally come together. I don’t mind cutting scenes or paragraphs or sentences that I love. I don’t mind writing new material. I don’t mind collapsing subplots, ditching characters, or even radically altering the point of view for 100,000 words of prose. I don’t mind because when Andrew tells me to do these things, I instantly see how much sense they make. For me, Andrew’s vision manages to expand the story’s possibilities while also clarifying what needs to be done to achieve those possibilities.

How, specifically, does the editing happen? I’ve often heard writer friends discuss the editorial letter, which I’m told is a fairly formal write-up of all the things that need to be done in revision for a manuscript to be acceptable to the editor. (More discussion of the editorial letter and an example here ) The editorial letter reflects the major first pass of editing and defines the focal areas for the main revision, after which (everyone hopes) it will be mostly scene- and sentence-level rewriting.

Unless I have suffered some serious memory loss—which is possible since I gave birth to my son during the early editorial process with What Can’t Wait—I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a formal editorial letter from Andrew. Instead, we tend to have several hour-longish phone calls where he tells me what his instincts are as far as what could or should change in the manuscript and why. Perhaps what is most important to me about how these things go is that the “why” is always intimately linked to the internal logic of the novel or its essential characteristics (as opposed, for example, to trends in the market or notions of what teens can “handle”). These conversations generally entail multiple epiphanies on my part and copious note-taking. The macro-level feedback from the phone calls comes along with scene-by-scene feedback via comments and edits in Word.

After responding to the major editorial feedback (over 2-5 months), I submit to Andrew my “final” manuscript. Once he reads and accepts it, I get the second half of the advance (the first half comes with signing the contract). There is still some back and forth and perhaps even some more substantive changes, but all the major pieces are in place. There will be at least one more full read-through with comments to address before the book goes to the next stage of copy-editing (line-by-line stuff and the standardization of things like “OK” for “okay” according to the publisher’s house style), which is done by wonderful people who work under Andrew.

2-14Book-MakingWhat’s next? Then the book goes into production, and a while later (3-6 months) I get an email with galleys that give an idea of what the manuscript will look like as a “real” book. There will also be drafts of jacket copy, which I’m glad I don’t have to write, and cover designs. With What Can’t Wait, I wasn’t in on anything until after the final cover was chosen; with The Knife and the Butterfly, I saw about a dozen preliminary designs and got to weigh in on their relative merits. From contract to the printing of advance reader copies, the process has taken between a year and two.

Any words of advice for those on the road to publishing? The truth is that—at least for your first book—you will have little say in who your editor is. Your agent will submit the book where she or he thinks it’s a good fit, and if an editor bites and makes a reasonable offer, your agent will advise you to accept. There is no room in this process for mailing editors personality tests to check for compatibility.

What you can do is embrace the editorial process as an opportunity to discover more about your novel and your work as a writer. I find that the writer-editor dynamic—inevitably centered on the book—creates an amazing triangle of insight inside of which all kinds of possibilities for the story come into focus. I hope that’s the case for many other writers, too.

JOIN OUR 2014 READING CHALLENGE!

2014 Reading Challenge

A year ago, The New York Times wrote about the lack of Latin@ literature in classrooms, which leaves the youngest members of the largest ethnic or racial minority in the U.S. with little chance to “see themselves in books.” The School Library Journal countered that the literature is there but needs to be promoted.

We believe both statements and would like to see more all around, meaning: more Latin@ children’s literature on bookshelves and in libraries and classrooms, more titles by and for Latin@s on year-end “Best of” lists and best-seller lists, more people buying, reading, and writing about Latin@ children’s literature.

We cannot control publishing and marketing, but we can read and write about Latin@s in children’s literature. So, as the new year approaches, we invite you to participate in our 2014 Reading Challenge. This would be a great way to diversify your reading lists and support already established and emerging writers who include Latin@s in their books. One of the best ways to express that diversity in kid lit is important is to buy, read, and write about these titles.

Here are the Guidelines:

  • This challenge will run from January 1, 2014-December 31, 2014.
  • Anyone can join! You don’t have to be a book blogger. WordPress doesn’t accept anything that uses JavaScript, so we can’t use a linky list. If you want to participate: post somewhere that you are joining the 2014 Latin@s in Kid Lit Reading Challenge, sign up in the comments, and include a direct link to your announcement. Copy and paste our reading challenge logo onto your site. If you don’t have a site, you can spread the word on Facebook, Twitter, or any other way.
  • The goal is one book per month. You may post reviews on GoodReads (use a shelf dedicated to 2014 Latin@s in Kid Lit Reading Challenge), Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Facebook, or wherever else you post your reviews. Again, link back to the challenge. Each month, we will check up on participants, but you can also send a direct link to our email at: latinosinkidlit@gmail.com whenever you read and review a book. We will have a monthly round-up post that lists all reviews available online.
  • Re-reads and crossovers from other challenges are fine.
  • You may select books as you go.
  • You can join at anytime during the year.  Any books you have read in 2014 can be added.
  • Prizes will be given to those who stick with it through the year!
  • Any format, level (children’s, MG, or YA), or  genre is welcome. The book, however, must be written by a Latin@ author and/or include Latin@ characters, settings, themes, etc.

“How will I find such books?” you ask.

“No problemo,” we say. Here are some suggestions:

Also, these titles were on “Best of” 2013 lists:

Yaqui Delgado Wants to Kick Your Ass by Meg Medina; SLJ, Kirkus

From Norvelt to Nowhere by Jack Gantos: PW

Enrique’s Journey by Sonia Nazario, Kirkus

Death, Dickinson, and the Demented Life of Frenchie Garcia by Jenny Torres Sanchez, Kirkus

Niño Wrestles the World written and illustrated by Yuyi Morales, Horn

The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson, Kirkus

If you’re like us, then you will be reading anyway because you’re a person who loves books and children’s literature, in particular. Why not challenge yourself to add some Latin@ literature to your TBR pile? We hope you join us!

Give Kid Lit Readers a Broad Range with Real Characters

 

For our first set of posts, each of us will respond to the question: “Why Latin@ Kid Lit?” to address why we created a site dedicated to celebrating books by, for, or about Latin@s.

By Ashley Hope Pérez

Like Stephanie, my personal commitment to Latin@ lit comes from my work with teens. Much of my energy as a high school English teacher in Houston went to finding ways to make reading and writing an authentic, meaningful, and empowering part of my students’ lives.

I spent a lot of time scouring our school library and talking to my reluctant readers about what they wanted in a book. No big surprise: a lot of them wanted a book that reflected their experiences in a way that would ring true. We had plenty of successes, but there were a number of students for whom it seemed that the gateway book—that critical read that would persuade them of all that words can do—was missing.

“I want a book that shows how my life really is,” I heard over and over. “Not just somebody brown, but somebody real,” one student insisted. And, “please, I can’t stand it when they make it seem like if you just get into college, you’ve got it made.” That last bit came from one of my top-performing seniors, an impressive scholar by all accounts but also a young woman who had few illusions about the conflicting demands she would be facing in the coming years.

My students—aware of my aspirations to “one day” write a novel—began to recommend (okay, insist, pester, badger) that I write the book that they were looking for, and they were both my inspiration and the first readers of What Can’t Wait. Similarly, The Knife and the Butterfly began with writing exercises I was using to give a group of freshmen in a summer school English class a way of responding to the news coverage of a deadly gang fight a few miles away. In my third novel (watch for it in 2015 from Carolrhoda Lab), I take my concern with Latin@ experiences in a new direction by bringing them to the history of my native East Texas. I explore Hispanic experiences in the primarily black-and-white world of 1930s East Texas through the story of a school explosion, family secrets, an interracial romance between a Mexican American girl and a black boy, and the pressures created by Texas’s three-fold segregation system (black, white, and “Mexican” schools existed in many places). The third novel is going to be something different from my contemporary fiction, for sure, but it’s still written with my students in mind. I like to think that it’s the kind of book that would persuade my students to think about how past experiences scar the present—and what we do to mark loss and begin healing.

It matters quite a lot to me that Latin@ lit avoid the trap of making an “issue” of ethnicity, as Zoraida pointed out. Ethnicity was a non-issue for my students, not because they lived in such a multicultural world (Zoraida’s experience) but in fact because their world was relatively homogeneous; most of the kids in the Southeast Houston neighborhood where I taught were from working class families with roots in Mexico. Even my students who weren’t bilingual regularly heard Spanish and had strategies for managing the interconnections of Spanish and English in their community.

I don’t include glossaries in my novels, as I discuss here, because my books are first and foremost for my kids—and because I believe in the resourcefulness of other readers who come along. All of that to say: writing for my kids felt urgent back when I started What Can’t Wait, and it still does today. But Latin@s in Kid Lit has a broader mission than featuring Latin@ YA: we’re about highlighting awesomeness by, for, and about Latin@s for kids of all ages, including younger readers.

When I have the chance to talk with librarians or teachers about book selection, I often beg them first to make sure their collection goes well beyond the default “diversity” titles. Book selections for younger children should go beyond portrayals of special holidays, for example. I often caution teachers about resorting too quickly to the “minority celebrity” of the hour when attempting to diversify their reading lists.

By the time my (mostly Latin@) students reached my senior English class, most of them had read The House on Mango Street—in part or in whole—a half dozen times. That was because Cisneros’ (wonderful!) and widely discussed book had become synonymous with “Latino experience” in the minds of well-meaning teachers who had little additional knowledge of Latin@ lit, and they didn’t look beyond it when making choices for their classrooms.

The absence of a broad selection of diverse titles can reinforce students’ feelings of exclusion and general disengagement from the world of books. By contrast, offering students (whatever their background) a broad range of literature can generate a lot of excitement.

I, for one, am all for excitement! In future posts, I hope to contribute to the conversation by offering my two cents on what’s happening in the world of Latin@ YA and also by highlighting some of my Latin@ kidlit reading adventures with my son, Liam Miguel.

More from me soon!

Ashley

P.S. Since I talk a lot about how I came to focus on Latin@ experiences in my fiction, I’ve cribbed some of this post from a past feature I did at STACKED , another blog that YA fans and librarians should have on their radar.