Sometimes you have to look at a
book a second time to really see it, to hear it. The first time that I read Crenshaw by Newbery winner Katherine
Applegate, I don’t think I really heard it.
Don’t get me wrong. I liked
it. In fact, I almost read all of Crenshaw before getting up out of my
chair even once. But, I just did not
feel the visceral reaction to it that I was expecting. It didn’t really speak to me the first
time. Yes, it made me sad. But, I suppose since “I am not an imaginary
friend kind of [girl]” (p. 7), I was too preoccupied with this talking
cat. Or, maybe I was just busy when I
read it the first time.
I don’t know why I did not really
feel Crenshaw like I should have the
first time. I mean. Come on.
It is Katherine Applegate for crying out loud. She is the kind of writer who makes a person
think. I love the beautiful style with
which Applegate writes. Listen to this, “He
liked the way the stars took their time showing up. He liked the way the grass let go of the sun’s
warmth. He liked the way crickets
changed the music” (p. 215). Beautiful!
Then, I saw some Twitter feeds from
Mr. Schu (if you don’t follow him, you should).
He and others were talking about how great the book was. What had I missed? Why did I not feel this way too? It was at that point that I determined that I
needed to read Crenshaw again.
I was not but a few pages into the second
read before I was at my computer writing about what I felt. A flood of thoughts came into my mind. I realized that it was because of Crenshaw that I now notice people’s
cars.
About a week before writing this, I
had seen two guys in a car that was clearly on its last leg, a car that had a
back seat completely loaded with clothing, folded and laundered clothing,
clothing that looked ready to wear rather than ready to donate. I immediately said to my family. “I wonder if those guys are living in their
car.”
Before Crenshaw, I probably would
have thought, “Hey, those guys are moving or coming from the laundromat,” or
worse, “Those guys sure do have a messy car.”
I’m not naïve. I did know that
people were homeless before Crenshaw. I had heard stories of people living in their
cars. I have had students tell me
stories of living on the street or in shelters.
For goodness sake, I took my own students to a preschool for homeless and
displaced children so that they could engage in meaningful, service learning
experiences. Because of Crenshaw, though, I saw the car and the
two guys differently. I was sad and
scared for them as they pulled away from us.
Crenshaw opened my eyes to see
what I already knew to be a possibility.
The second thing that I started to
think about were the stories of my students who have told me about their
situations with homelessness. More
importantly, I recalled the semester when a student told me that she was unable
to complete the work that I had assigned because she did not have Internet
access; in fact, she did not have electricity and was about the lose her
house. That little, red devil of a
teacher immediately wanted to say, “Well, you still have to do your work!” But, I repressed that bad teacher and
responded as a human. I gave her extra
time. I asked what I could do. I asked her to keep me informed. I tried to be empathetic. I was sad.
But, honestly, I was not as understanding as I should have been. I was wrapped up in closing out semester
grades, lesson plans, committee meetings, etc.
Crenshaw
made me see myself truly. There was a
part of me that was not understanding. I
hated it when I saw it. I wanted to turn
back time and do things differently. I
wanted to be better. Those first 10
pages of my second read made me want that.
If this is not a testimony for allowing books to simmer and then give
them another chance, I don’t know what is.
If this does not help us to see the importance of having kids reread
books, then nothing will.
Now that I have finished Crenshaw for the second time, I’m still
thinking about it and now talking about it with others in the field of
education. Not only can teachers learn
to be more human because of the book, but they can learn that books sometimes need
to be read more than once and they can also learn that not every student lives
as he wants you to think.
Crenshaw’s main character, Jackson,
is smart; he’s a scientist; he knows a lot about the facts. He lives with his mom, dad, and sister in an
apartment. They have a dog and a car. His mom works multiple jobs. He is the type of student who might slip under
our radar; it seems as if everything is ok.
We might see him and teach him but never know what he is really going
through.
The reality is that Jackson’s
family is struggling to make ends meet. They
have to sell almost everything they own and are on the edge of living in their
car…again. Jackson is struggling
emotionally. He says, “Sometimes I feel
like the most grown-up one in the house” (p. 147). He is scared and feels that his parents are
not being honest with him about their situation and then Crenshaw appears…again.
Crenshaw, Jackson’s very large imaginary
friend, who just happens to be in cat form, comes to him to help him tell the
truth and to help him navigate the unpredictably scary world in which he lives. Crenshaw brings an element of humor to a book
that is entrenched in very serious issues.
From his frolics with bubble baths, to his obsession with purple jelly
beans, to his knack for skateboarding and surfing, Crenshaw is the calm in the
storm. He provides Jackson, and the
reader, the support and humor needed to safely navigate Jackson’s life. While I, in my non-imaginary-friend-state-of-mind,
did not like Crenshaw at first, I now see that he is necessary. He is there to help Jackson, but he is also
there to make this book and this topic accessible to young readers.
Crenshaw
is a beautifully heartbreaking story about Jackson’s struggle. It has the potential to open the eyes of
upper elementary students who need to see that other children struggle more than
they may in life. It has the potential
to comfort upper elementary students who may be facing the brutal truths that
Jackson does. What I think is its
greatest potential is that it definitely taught me that I have to be vigilant
as an educator and never assume that any child is “doing just fine.” Jackson probably appeared to be doing just
fine to his teachers. This book helped
me to see that teachers must be more involved in the lives of students. Our students come to us for content
knowledge, but since we spend as much or more time with them during the week
than their parents and caregivers do, they need us to love them and support
them too. We cannot do that if we don’t
really know them.
So, I find it quite interesting
that I ended up writing much more about Crenshaw
than the first four entries to my blog.
Remember, it’s the book that didn’t speak to me the first time. The fact that I have discovered so many
powerful potentials with this book just goes to show the brilliance of
Katherine Applegate. Thanks, Katherine,
for yet another powerful piece of literature.
Crenshaw, 245
pages from Feiwel and Friends Book, Macmillan (September 22, 2015); ISBN: 9781250043238
Ideal for upper elementary and early middle school (and
apparently people like me who needed to tell the truth too)
