An Enduring Testament

When tragedy strikes our home, community, state, or country, we mark it with a memory. We cannot forget what we were doing when it happened.  Some of the tragedies are profound enough the whole world remembers along with us.  The events in the United States on September 11, 2001, are unforgettable.

The news, as quietly as possible, flew from classroom to classroom at our elementary school.  Adult staff members tried to proceed through the day as normally as possible although our hearts were heavy.  After school we gathered with our principal, many of us tears streaming down our faces.  It seems impossible this was twenty years ago.  Survivor Tree (Little, Brown And Company, August 31, 2021) written by Marcie Colleen with illustrations by Aaron Becker notes those events with an extraordinary story.  Nature finds a way.

A TREE STOOD STEEL-STRAIGHT AND PROUD

at the foot of the towers that filled the sky.

This Callery pear tree reflected the seasons.  From bare branches to blooming branches to boughs laden with green and then red, it shifted with the changing months.  For three decades it grew and lived, untouched.

In September, on a brilliant blue-sky day, normalcy for this tree, its surroundings, and the humans in its city was blasted aside.  Amid the destruction, the tree appeared to be a skeleton of its former self.  Then, hope spoke.  Those clearing the devastation found green sprouts on the branches of the tree.

In its broken, but hopeful state, the tree was placed in a new space.  Through winter and spring, it stayed the same, until new life unexpectedly appeared.  The tree again reflected the seasons for nearly ten years.

When the next winter came, the tree was taken to its original place.  The towers, two, were gone.  The tree was there, a visible, living testament to the tragedy and hopeful strength.  From old scarred, bark smooth growth extended.

The text written by Marcie Colleen reads like poetry.  A single sentence vividly describes the tree's presence in each season until that catastrophic September day.  The cadence stops as stunned as the world was.  Again single, carefully penned phrases (sometimes two) follow the tree's journey, until changes necessitate more words.  We feel the rhythm of the story through the use of repetition.  It brings us back to winter, spring, summer, and fall with a renewed perspective.  Here is a passage.

Two stone blocks were placed in its stunted shadow---

a memorial of makeshift towers in a makeshift home.

No longer stretching tall,

the tree reached deep in the warm earth,

and all was quiet.  

(Please note I am working with an F & G.  My copy has not arrived yet.)

When you open the dust jacket, the choice of hues blankets you in calm.  The illustration of the Survivor Tree as it stands today at the 9/11 Memorial continues across the spine and over the fold of the front flap.  Notice the trunks of the other trees and the similarly colored shapes representing the aluminum and steel lattice tridents on the towers.  As they move toward the sky their shades are muted.

To the left, on the back, an image of the memorial is presented.  It is as if we are standing there.  On the bottom we can see portions of names around a white rose.  Above this is one of the two pools.  The words,

EVEN IN THE DARKEST OF TIMES,

COLOR WILL ALWAYS

RETURN TO THE WORLD

are shown as our eyes move to the top.  Trees in autumn rise in front of buildings and a sky with some clouds.

(If you go to the illustrator's Instagram account you can see the stunning book case as he unboxes his copies from the publisher.)

The endpapers, quotation page, dedication and title pages, pages of notes, and publication information pages are awash in colors depicting the different times of day and seasons of the year.  Floating through them as if on a breeze are leaves.  They, too, mirror the times of day and seasons of the year in their hues.  The title page is a double-page illustration, a breathtaking view of New York City as if we are arriving by water with the Statue of Liberty on our left and the skyline spread before her.  The Survivor Tree glows in front of the Twin Towers.  

These images by artist Aaron Becker were rendered

in watercolor and colored pencil on 300 lb. hot press watercolor paper.

On heavier, matte-finished paper these double-page pictures convey a range of emotions.  Aaron Becker enhances the beautiful narrative by pictorially supplying another story, a human story, within the tale of the tree.  This story follows a family through photographs initially. 

Every time you read this book; you will see more included details in Aaron Becker's visuals.  He employs cutaways to show the roots of the tree.  Seasons blend from one side of the page to the other.  What will each reader see on the pages before the crashes?  For emphasis Aaron Becker alters his perspectives.  We are brought close to the hand caressing the green on the broken tree.  As the tree is brought to the memorial, it is a more panoramic view with lots of sky.  One wordless illustration is breathtaking.

One of my many favorite pictures is toward the closing of the book.  We are close to the tree, it's trunk on the left and multiple branches extending up and out to the right-page edge.  It is autumn.  We can see the leaves tinged with muted red, orange, yellow, and purple.  Their backs to us, a father and his daughter reach toward one of the branches.  The daughter's left hand and arm rests on her father's right shoulder.  Together they touch history and hope.

With every reading the richness of Survivor Tree written by Marcie Colleen with illustrations by Aaron Becker envelopes you.  Viewing this tree's story through the poetic words by the author and the striking artwork, with an added pictorial interpretation, by the illustration creates a promise.  It's a promise we can hold in our hands.  At the close of the book is more information about the Survivor Tree and an author's and an illustrator's notes.  I highly recommend this title for your personal and professional collections.

To discover more about Marcie Colleen and Aaron Becker and their other work, please visit their respective websites by following the link attached to their names.  Marcie Colleen has accounts on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.  Aaron Becker has accounts on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and Twitter.  At the publisher's website there is a video/podcast with Aaron Becker talking about his artwork for this title and a podcast with Marcie Colleen speaking about her writing for this book.  At author, reviewer, and blogger, Julie Danielson's website, Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, this title is showcased.  At author and teacher librarian Travis Jonker's School Library Journal, 100 Scope Notes, website is the cover reveal and a question and answer with both the author and the illustrator.

UPDATE:  Please enjoy this Five questions for Marcie Colleen and Aaron Becker in The Horn Book on September 8, 2021.

Looking For The Familiar

Whether we move from city to city within the same state, move to a different state in the same country or leave our country's borders, our apprehension prior to the move finds its center in the people and places we are leaving behind.  Thoughts of using technology to connect with people, and even places, does lessen the worry, but it's still not the same as real life encounters.  As soon as we arrive at our new destination, sometimes even before we begin to settle, we start to explore our surroundings.  We are looking for the familiar. 

For children, the sooner they find places, a park, a library or a restaurant serving their favorite food, in which they feel comfortable, the more apt they are to relax.  A New Home (Candlewick Press, April 9, 2019) written and illustrated by Tania de Regil explores the parallel worlds of two children making huge moves.  They don't realize it, but one is moving to the other's city.

Mom and Dad told me that we
are moving to Mexico City.

Mama and Papa told me that we
are moving to New York City.

Neither of them is excited about the move.  They are already missing important things in their lives.  Will there be a favorite musician playing music on their way to school?  Will there be a food vendor serving a delicious snack on their way home from school?

They each enjoy certain sporting and cultural events with their parents.  They can play in big city parks where they live now; like Central Park in New York City and the Bosque de Chapultepec in Mexico City.  They are both curious to know if there are museums for their new classes to visit in their new cities. 

While realizing the detriments in their respective cities, homelessness and noise, there are multiple activities to occupy them during the summer with their families.  They wonder if there will be friends like they have now in this new city.  There are many unanswered questions.  One thing is certain, the child from New York City and the child from Mexico City, hold hope in their hearts.


As an author experiencing international moves, Tania de Regil understands the emotions of children when facing this sort of change.  Her portrayal of the blend of excitement and concern through simple straightforward text, fifteen sentences total, is profound.  As the narrative progresses Tania de Regil has worked to offer readers of all ages an opportunity.  It's an opportunity, regardless of geographic location, to see similarities in people and in the places where they live.


Un Nuevo Hogar was released on the same day as A New Home. (I don't have a copy of the Spanish title yet.)  When opening the matching dust jacket and book case, readers are introduced to the boy living in New York City on the left and the girl living in Mexico City on the right.  Outside their respective windows readers can point out elements for which their cities are known.  Each child is holding a book reflective of the city which will be their new home. 

To the left, on the back, on a canvas of white are the words:

I hope my life
won't be so different
in my new city.

Along the bottom is a skyline from New York City.  Along the top is flora and birds more likely to be seen in Mexico City.  The opening and closing endpapers are the rich golden yellow shade used on the front of the jacket and case to hold the text.

On the formal title page Tania de Regil has used predominantly green for a map and a purple hue for water.  She has drawn a dotted line from Mexico City to New York City.  The boy is headed toward Mexico City and the girl is walking toward New York City.  They are each carrying their favorite toys.

Rendered in ink, colored pencil, watercolor, and gouache and assembled digitally, the illustrations vary in size from full-page pictures opposite a white page for text, two full-page images sharing the same text beneath them, two smaller visuals on a page sharing text in the middle and a two-page, half page illustration sharing text in the middle between the two pictures.  This layout and design allow readers to notice exactly what Tania de Regil wants us to understand.  For pure dramatic effect the narrative closes with a double-page image.

The perspective shifts to complement and heighten the narrative.  Readers will pause to look at all the details; a pigeon on the fire escape in New York City and on the balcony in Mexico City, grandmothers walking the children home from school, or the presence of the children's toys.  Even though both children wonder about their new homes, there is a warmth conveyed in every single picture.  It's an exploration of possibilities.

Two of my many favorite illustrations are when the children are playing in their respective parks.  For the boy the season is in winter using a soft gray in the cityscape behind leafless trees in Central Park.  In the foreground the boy is laughing, holding his red teddy bear and skating on a pond.  Behind him others are skating, and a film crew is working on a scene.  For the girl, a royal castle is in the background.  In the foreground the smiling girl is riding her bicycle on a large cobblestone pathway.  A food vendor truck is off to the left.  A man selling balloons and whirligigs is in front of her on the right.  Behind her is a pool of water with boaters rowing.  Both pictures convey the fun the children are having.  There is a sense of motion but also calm.


As her picture book debut in the United States A New Home and Un Nuevo Hogar written and illustrated by Tania de Regil is a marvelous depiction of questions children have when moving to a new city in a new country.  It also works beautifully to provide answers and relieve any worry.  There is true artistry in the text and illustrations.  I highly recommend this title for your professional and personal collections.  At the close of the book Tania de Regil features thumbnails on three pages of the illustrations with further information about the two cities.

To learn more about Tania de Regil and her other work, please visit her website by following the link attached to her name.  Tania de Regil has accounts on Instagram and Twitter.  At the publisher's website you can view an interior image.  The publisher has also provided an activity kit.  The cover reveal is at Latinxs in Kid Lit.  The book trailer premiere along with an interview is hosted by Scholastic's Ambassador of School Libraries John Schumacher at Watch. Connect. Read.  Tania de Regil is interviewed about this book at The Children's Book Council.  Process artwork is shared.

Remembering Then, Living Now, Hoping For Tomorrow

For those people directly affected by a natural disaster or an epic event triggered by a single person or group of individuals, we cannot truly understand the depth of the emotional or physical impact.  As observers our response is based upon our own life experiences.  If we have a connection to those persons involved our reaction will be definitely heightened.

On the morning of September 11, 2001, as a nation our way of life changed irrevocably.  For those able we listened or watched in stunned silence.  In our elementary school, all staff maintained, as best as we could for the children, a business-as-usual kind of day.  At a subsequent meeting many of us were openly weeping at the staggering number of lives lost.  

In six days we will mark the fifteenth anniversary of 9/11, the deadliest attack in history on the United States.  The Memory of Things (St. Martin's Griffin, September 6, 2016) by Gae Polisher provides an intimate portrait of two teenagers in New York City on that Tuesday morning.  As their two stories unfold and intertwine we are in the midst of their lives prior to and during the following four days.

  

Tuesday Morning, 9.11.01

BIRD

I move with the crowd, away from downtown Manhattan.

We travel swiftly but don't run, panicked but steady, a molten lava flow of bodies across the bridge.

A crash of thunder erupts---another explosion?---and the flow startles and quickens.  Someone near me starts to cry, a choked, gasping sound, soon muted by a new wail of sirens rising at my back.  

Kyle Donahue, a student at Stuyvesant High School in Lower Manhattan is crossing the Brooklyn Bridge toward home, having been evacuated from his school building.  As he walks, stunned by seeing the collapse of the South Tower, he glimpses large wings on something crouched near one of the bridge's pillars.  Concerned it needs help, he turns around to go back, regardless of the urgings of others. What he thought was a bird he discovers is a girl near his age, looking as though she means to fly away.  She is coated in ash and dust with bits of metal in her hair.

Eventually Kyle is able to persuade her to come with him, making their way to his family's apartment in Brooklyn Heights.  Kyle's father is a detective with the New York City police and a member of the Joint Terrorist Task Force.  His mother and younger sister are scheduled to fly home from California this morning.  His uncle Matt, a former member of the New York City police department, is living with them recovering from a crippling accident earlier in the spring.  Kyle has no idea who the girl is.  She can't remember her name.  

The girl's voice within the narrative is written in free verse.  At first there are only seemingly unconnected bits and pieces of memory she can gather.  As hours and days pass a more complete picture of the Tuesday morning and her past are revealed; an overwhelming loss, a special place, a lack of understanding and words said in anger. 

Conversations between Kyle and the girl, his Uncle Matt, his dad and his mom when the phones work, and his Uncle Paul, also a member of the New York City police force, depict a very clear picture of family dynamics even though we still don't know who the girl is, why she was by the twin towers or where she lives.  Tension builds as one day stretches into the next.  Kyle is the anchor at home, taking care of his wheelchair-bound uncle.  He knows he should report the girl to missing persons or take her to the appropriate authorities but he also wants her to stay.  Kyle still has not told his dad about the girl. 

When and if Kyle's dad comes home decisions need to be made.  Personalities of those important people in Kyle's life are no longer quite the same.  In those few days a boy and a girl bond in a situation not likely to be replicated in their futures.  There is much love.  There is much loss.  There is a great deal of fear.   Within the larger story of 9/11 individual stories weave together heading toward a conclusion readers could not have predicted.   

Exquisite writing by Gae Polisner completely captives the reader from the first to final pages. (I read this book in a single seating.)  She supplies explicit details of the day to day events through Kyle's thoughts, his conversations with the girl as well as during conversations between family members.  The dialogue between all the characters rings true also revealing to us little by little the lives of each character and the values they hold in their hearts before and after that Tuesday.  We get a true sense of the shift in indivdual outlooks.  The past flawlessly flows into the present.  

The choice to depict the girl's voice in free verse adds suspense to an already unprecedented situation.  We are privy to her temporary amnesia, her few and scattered recollections, which build little by little to longer phrases, more complete memories.  But Polisner does not allow us to understand, along with the girl, until near the end.  This is brilliant.

Another writing technique employed in this story is the use of parts, eight, instead of chapters.  Within each part are smaller sections denoted with several words or a single word.  This ties readers in a personal way to the text.   Here are some sample passages from the ARC I received.

Wait to fall

but don't

Am tethered here

Turn.

A boy shouts,

eyes full of terror.

He grabs hold of me

(an explosion

a ball of fire rising to the sky...

flames

everywhere).

Pull away from his grip, but he won't

let go.

A fresh round of banging and machinery starts up in the background.  "Okay, I've got to go, kid.  Give Matty a kiss for me.  I'm proud of you."  He stops.  No, not stops.  My badass dad is crying.  I wait for his regular voice to return again, normal, safer sounding.  But instead he says, "And stay inside, you hear me?  Don't go anywhere.  Not until we know for sure what's going on."

"Okay, I promise," I say.  And, though I know I shouldn't, I ask, "Are you sure you're going to be all right?"

"I hope so, kid.  I think so.  The military is all over it now.  But I don't know when I'll be home.  Not tonight.  So hold down the fort."

"Okay, we will."  My eyes dart down the hall.  Me, Uncle Matt, and the bird girl.  "Do what you need to do," I say.  "I'll let Mom know now."

He hangs up.  I let out a shaky breath and wait for my mother to call back.

And for one split second, as I look up at her, I forget about everything else except for her and me, and this moment.  About the two of us doing this silly little unimportant thing together.

I forget about the planes and the buildings and worrying about my dad.

I forget about Uncle Matt's accident, and that he's stuck in a wheelchair.

I forget the girl is a stranger, and I don't even know her name.

I forget about Jenny Lynch's dad and Bangor's uncle.  I forget about Marcus and civil wars in countries far away.

I forget that this day isn't normal, that yesterday wasn't normal, that the whole world as we know it has stopped; that's there's a weird, hushed pall across the city.  Across the nation.  And I forget that, at least here in New York, we don't know when---or if---it will ever be normal again.

For one split second I forget.

For those readers who can remember the events of 9/11 this story and these characters will become a part of those thoughts.  The Memory of Things written by Gae Polisner is an outstanding young adult novel; one you will want to read and recommend repeatedly. In an author's note at the end Gae, who lives with her family on Long Island, New York, speaks about her personal experiences before and after September 11, 2001.  Her final paragraph and her final sentence will long resonate.

To learn more about Gae Polisner please follow the link attached to her name to access her website.  Gae maintains entries on Tumblr.  At the Nerdy Book Club Gae reveals the cover along with comments by her, the cover designer and her editor.  At the publisher's website you can read an excerpt.

I was fortunate enough to hear Gae Polisner and Nora Raleigh Baskin speak at nErDcampMI 2016 in a session titled Healing Through Words: Two Authors discuss 9/11 and Coping with Tragedy through a writer's lens.  I encourage you to read the middle grade book, Nine, Ten: A September 11 Story written by Nora Raleigh Baskin.  

One of my fav things about THE MEMORY OF THINGS (out 9/6) is the comic relief that comes from the Cow & Chicken scenes. So. . .

— gae polisner (@gaepol) September 1, 2016

UPDATE:  A teacher's guide has now been provided by the publisher.