Depictions of the Male Literacy Role Model in Picture Books

by Eileen Spinelli. Illustrated by Melissa Iwai. New York: Hyperion, 2000.

The working father does not always have the luxury of living on the same schedule as his children. A profound, even if unintended, effect of this can be a lack of shared quality time between father and child. If ignored, the distance created can be detrimental to the long-term relationship. However, with a little creativity and a well-intentioned parent, this issue can be addressed in compelling ways. Eileen Spinelli explores the importance of finding quality time, despite adverse conditions, in Night Shift Daddy.

Spinelli’s playful rhyme conveys the admiration and love that the narrating daughter has for her father, who leaves home every night to fulfill his janitorial duties. The narrative outlines the ritual that she and her father engage in on a daily basis. Each page contributes to developing the depth of their relationship.

The story can be seen as divided into two sections, each directly paralleling the other. In the first half, Daddy uses his pre-work moments to read his daughter a bedtime story and tuck her in before going off to his night shift. In the morning, after sharing breakfast, she reciprocates the story-telling and bedtime ritual for her father. Here we see the potential of reading together as the tie that binds.

As mentioned, every page of this compact narrative develops the strength of the father-daughter connection, even when they are separated during Daddy’s work hours. This is true of the illustrations as well as the text. In one particularly effective two-page panel, the checkerboard quilt keeping the daughter warm on the left page becomes the checkerboard floor of the office her Daddy is sweeping on the opposite page. Even the highlights on her face reflect the green lighting of his work space.

The final, particularly poignant image requires no words at all. In a reversal of an image of the daughter watching her father leave for work in the snow, unaware of her watchful eyes, we see the father’s view of his daughter leaving to play after lovingly putting him to bed. The way the father’s sentiments echo his daughter’s is particularly heart-warming. The illustrations are particularly effective in conveying, through the use of deep, richly colored pastels, the sense of a cozy, nurturing environment where love can prosper.

The affectionate ritual that father and daughter share is not only positive for the strength of their emotional bond, but also clearly develops a unique literacy relationship. By incorporating the read-aloud as part of the daily ritual, the daughter has a unique investment in participating. Her love of reading develops as a corollary of her love of spending quality time with her father. It is not hard to see how the daughter stands to prosper in the long run from the model set by her father, a hard worker who still finds time to be a father. And after all, a literacy role model starts by just being a role model.

by Katherine Paterson. Illustrated by Jane Clark Brown. New York: Harper Collins, 2001.

A child who does not know how to read faces many challenges. Perhaps most cruel amongst these is the ridicule and isolation of classmates and peers. The maltreatment of an illiterate youngster can serve to reinforce and deepen the child’s negative associations with reading and literacy. Fortunately, the sensitivity of a caring parent can help to turn this situation around, as is the case in Katherine Paterson’s Marvin One Too Many.

Marvin has a tough first day at his new school. He gets lost and makes his sister late. When he gets to his class, there are no desks for him: “One more? That is one too many.” (p.7). Then he discovers that he is the only one who has not learned to read his own name. His feelings of inadequacy escalate as he repeatedly reveals himself to be less literate than his classmates. Soon his frustration and embarrassment manifests itself on the playground, when he hits one of the taunting students.

Marvin’s frustration becomes negatively associated with resentment towards reading: “Reading is dumb.” (p.22, p.33) and “Books are dumb.” (p.23). This feeling is compounded by his unwillingness to share his problems with his parents, who are busy tending their farm. Instead, he is left to wish that there would be no school, so he would not have to go. It is when that wish is granted in the form of a snowstorm that his frustration turns to guilt. Typical of the downtrodden child, Marvin sees the difficulties that the storm causes and blames himself. At last, Marvin is forced to reveal the true source of his malaise: the insecurity of not being able to read.

Enter the sympathetic male literacy role model. The father recognizes Marvin’s insecurities and, in a nice illustration detail, gets down on his knees to comfort his son and assuage his fears: “Marvin, the storm is not your fault.”(p.37). Furthermore, Dad reveals himself to be the last one to learn to read in his class. The important lesson is that Dad did not let his inefficiency stop him: “No, reading is great. It takes more time for some of us.” (p.38). Together, they overcome Marvin’s reading difficulties, which helps Marvin stop being “one too many".”

The illustrations effectively highlight both Marvin’s isolation and the nurturing manner of the father. Even the cover image shows that Marvin is the odd man out, uncomfortably exposed with neither a desk nor an answer. Later in the book, we see a series of images that progressively bring father and son closer together and they tackle the development of Marvin’s reading skill. The shift from insecure, angry Marvin to confident Marvin will hopefully resonate for the readers.

As with Night Shift Daddy, we see that one does not have to be a scholar to be a literacy role model. It is essential to first and foremost be a role model. Marvin already thinks his Dad is smart because he “knew all about cows and trucks” (p.38). His obvious admiration for his father puts Dad in a perfect position to help Marvin conquer his literacy issues. Education level does not define the great role model, but rather the sensitivity and time commitment that a loving parent can and should provide.

by Patricia Polacco. New York: Philomel, 1993.

A child who is bored with reading needs special consideration. The child who yearns to run and play might need to be shown that reading is an adventure too. Sometimes the wisdom of an experienced reader and adventurer is the key to breaking a child’s reading doldrums. Mary Ellen’s Grampa is just such a role model in Patricia Polacco’s The Bee Tree.

Grampa is clearly a heavy reader. On the first two-page panel, we see that the shelves and floor are literally piled with books. The bookshelf is full. There is a stack of books on the floor next to Grampa’s chair and a lectern with opened book on the table. Mary Ellen, surrounded by her evidence of her grandfather’s bibliomania, speaks of her boredom and the need to get out of the house. Cleverly, Grampa seizes the opportunity to demonstrate the true excitement and adventure that can be found in reading, as in life.

The core of the story centers on the adventures of Grampa and Mary Ellen, and subsequently the whole community, as they pursue a honey bee to its hive. The joyous process of chasing the bee is linked metaphorically to the pursuit of knowledge that can be found inside books. The movement of the bee provides the driving force through this middle section of the book, pulling the reader anxiously from one page to the next, until they finally reach their goal: the bee hive.

The key moment of the book comes when Grampa pulls Mary Ellen aside from the honey celebration. Placing a spoonful of honey onto one of her books, he implores her to taste. The moral comes next: “There is such sweetness inside of that book too!” Like the elusive beehive, we have to pursue knowledge and wisdom and adventure. The metaphor is well-received and Mary Ellen becomes a life-long reader (in fact, she’s Patricia Polacco’s mother).

Sure, the story seems a little contrived, but the metaphor is surprisingly effective. And while the primary focus is reading, the story is also about working for the good things in life. Grampa apparently has done that. He appears in every sense as the wise old man: erudite, bespectacled and wrinkled with experience.

Through their adventure, we see that Grampa clearly has ideas for passing along his wisdom. In this regard, he is an ideal literacy role model. Unlike our other role models, he is wise enough to offer both purpose and excitement toward the pursuit of reading skill. However, Grampa and Mary Ellen do not appear to share in the stories in the way that they share in the adventure. Perhaps this is outside of the scope of the story, but it would serve to reinforce the connection.

by Dolores Johnson. New York: Macmillan, 1993.

One of the overarching assumptions of the concept of the literacy role model is the literacy of the role model. How can someone positively influence a child to read when he or she is unable to do the same? Sometimes a love of books and reading manifests itself in surprising ways. Love and enthusiasm can play a huge role as they do for Kari and her father in Dolores Johnson’s Papa’s Stories.

Kari loves her father’s stories. She loves them so much she waits for him to come home every day with a book in hand for him to read to her. She is astounded how he manages to make the stories unique and special everyday. There is one book in particular that she loves: “Little Miss Too-Big-For-Her-Red-Britches,” which many children will recognize as Little Red Riding Hood. Of course, what she does not know, but comes to realize, is that her father actually cannot read and has been inventing the stories all along.

Johnson’s watercolors do a fantastic job of showing how alive the stories are for Kari when her father tells them. In one double-page spread, Jack appears to climbing right out of the viewer’s space on his beanstalk. Similarly, we can read the pain and embarrassment that Kari feels as her friend reveals the true title of Little Red Riding Hood. She grits her teeth, her shoulders slouch and she looks as sad as the dolls on her bed behind her.

Johnson’s story deals with the complex issue of a child who feels deceived by his or her parent. Kari goes through a period of resentment and doubt as to her father’s love. Her devotion to her father’s stories and the revealed deception leads her to wonder that if someone lies about one thing “could they be lying about how much they love you, too?” With the reassurance of her mother, Kari confronts her father who readily admits his shortcomings. Of course, the depth of their mutual love prevails as it is revealed that Papa had no role models as a child and so “didn’t care enough about learnin’.” Kari realizes that she is blessed to have parents who care and by the end requests that Papa go back to telling stories his way: “I love the extra-special way you read the stories.”

So what we have here is a truly unique literacy relationship. Kari loves her father’s stories so much, that he is inspired to actually learn to read: “I decided that I had a real good reason in my life to make a special effort to learn again.” In turn, she is so inspired by both his stories and his love and concern for her well-being, that it is hard not to imagine her potential as a highly literate child. Papa’s inventiveness in story-telling effectively bridges the gap between his daughter and books, despite his inability to read them. In this scenario, the support, love and quality time provided by an active parental role model more than make up for deficiencies in that role model’s intellect.