Women in the Material World

Last January we took a trip to Oregon, tagging along with my husband for work. We spent beautiful, mild days traipsing through Portland, a break in the rain that leaves you asking yourself, "Can the rain really make it that draining in winter?" By the end of our week I decided that I could definitely be a diehard Pacific Northwesterner if my job was to drink coffee and read all day. I'd have to forego annoying things like picking up kids, going to get groceries and pulling weeds. Curling up with a book and a warm mug from the list of coffee shops I'd frequent would be my only responsibilities. Sounds nice, doesn't it? 

We made several trips to Powell's that week because one stop is just not enough. On a visit where the kids were engrossed in choosing their new books (our standard offering for a trip souvenir), I started chatting with a lovely employee. We'd recently read a lot of the same things and had similar taste in fiction and non-fiction. It was like the start of a really awesome blind date. Somehow we came around to anthropology and women and before I knew it she shoved this book into my hands and ordered me to read it. I'm so grateful she did. 

This book is exactly what you'd expect to find, but done so with just the right blend of objectivity and compassion. If these pages look familiar you may have seen the authors' original book, Material World: A Global Family Portrait. This time they've gone back to many of those original families to see what life is like, day to day, for the women and their families. Although the floors and food and clothes may seem different, the interviews will instantly shrink your world view to realize how similar, how interconnected we all actually are. I found myself nodding silently when one woman lamented the difficulty of balancing home and children without letting herself slip away, lost to the demands of those jobs completely. And I could have thrown out an, "Amen, Sister!" when another laughingly shook off the notion of equality when it comes to household chores (my husband is a gem, who is off fixing our garbage disposal as I write this, but when that man puts away dishes it's like an April Fool's joke). Restlessness, anxiety, joy, fear, it's all there in every country, on every continent. "Should I go back to work? Do I want to go back to school? Can I go back to school? Did I say the right thing? Should I have done that differently?" 

Carmen in Mexico cleans while the kids are at school, a particularly futile sounding chore when you consider that they live on a dirt street. She left school at age 12 because her father said they didn't have money for her to continue. Now she'd like to take sewing lessons to eventually bring in money for her family, but her husband says it's not financially possible. 

When Sayo, from Japan, is asked, "Is marriage what you expected?" Her response: "No, no. I thought it would be much merrier and happier. [Laughs] At one point I wanted us to have the same interests - to go to art galleries. I wanted him to go with me, but he was not interested, so we do not have any activities to do together. And my husband, he maybe feels the same way..." I found this story especially interesting because Sayo's favorite childhood chore was helping in her mother's midwifery practice and the woman she most admires is Catherine Deneuve. Oh but for thousands of miles we'd be off to the museum, chatting about births and quoting our favorite lines from Belle de Jour. 

Thumb through the pages visiting Thailand, Guatemala, Mexico, Haiti, Ethiopia, China, Mongolia, South Africa, Israel, Japan, Russia, Italy and take comfort knowing that all over the world piles of laundry are threatening to topple, kids are asking for one last drink of water and toilet seats are left up. 

Women in the Material World by Faith D'Aluisio and Peter Menzel

Children's Book Shelf

My almost six-year-old is "reading" some of these (he won't start reading for another year so we do 'picture walks'; he gives narration and looks for context clues based on observing pictures, patterns, etc) and my nearly ten-year-old has enjoyed most of them, too. I'll cull the pile of chapter books he's into right now and start another list. I love seeing these snapshots of what we're all reading and I hope they give some inspiration for those whose kids are also going through books faster than Courtney Love goes through fishnets. 

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone: The Illustrated Version, J.K. Rowling:: These books will be a treasured addition to the set of well-worn paper backs. And it's also fun to wait in anticipation for Harry Potter material again.

Architecture According to Pigeons, Speck Lee Tailfeather:: If you have a kid who is interested in history or architecture this is a great way to learn about some of the greats with a fun twist. Told from the perspective of a globe-trotting pigeon as he flies over the Sydney Opera House, the Golden Gate Bridge, the Taj Mahal, Fallingwater (swoon) and more.

Rosie Revere, Engineer, Andrea Beaty and David Roberts:: I love the illustrations and rhyming stories are always fun.

The Sky Painter: Louis Fuertes, Bird Artist, Margarita Engle and Aliona Bereghici:: Again, great illustrations. My little bird lover really likes this one and it's so inspiring to see how what children love to do when they are small can translate to a lifelong pursuit.

The Story of the Snow Children, Sibylle von Olfers:: A perennial favorite this time of year.

Monsieur Marceau:Actor Without Words, Leda Schubert and Gerard DuBois:: Truly fascinating historically and I could look at these beautiful pictures all day long.

Cloud Tea Monkeys, Mal Peet and Elspeth Graham:: This book is listed as a favorite on many lists for a reason. My oldest liked it the most.

Celia and the Fairies, Karen McQuestion:: Originally a library hold for Jonah, Flynn got to it first and said we have to read it. In the pile it stays.

The Night Fairy, Laura Amy Schlitz and Angela Barrett:: This one will definitely be a permanent addition to our bookshelf. When fairy stories are done well they are not perceived as "just for girls" or "baby stories." Danger, conflicting emotions, light and dark, this book has it all.

Winter Story (Brambly Hedge), Jill Barklem:: I've been putting off having our own set of these books because space is at such a premium around here, but we all love them so much and it's a pain to request and re-request from the library. The whole collection is lovely.

The Fairytale Detectives (The Sisters Grimm, Book 1), Michael Buckly and Peter Ferguson:: I'm so surprised that my oldest couldn't get into this one. So, I've decided to add it to my pile and see if it's one of those where you have to a little further in before you feel the story take hold.

No Nooky

The library has really been on my mind these last few months. As a kid I spent a lot of time at my local public library (the Olde Town Arvada branch behind the Junior High, excuse me, middle school) which has since been transformed into a stunning two-story building in the center of Olde Town with huge windows and the standard geometric print armchairs that serve as shorthand for "modern". I would retreat to the library whenever things were tough at home and in summer my idea of getting outside was huffing and puffing on my bike to sneak off to the dark, cool stacks in the library. I fell in love with all things Judy Blume in that library and religiously read "Tiger Eyes" every fall. I remember the year at elementary school when I discovered the banned book list and immediately got a copy of "Wifey," which I read hidden behind a back issue of Cat Fancy, sweating and nervously chewing my lip every time an adult came near me. When I got to the part where she goes for a check up I distinctly remember looking up the word "gynecologist" and nearly hyperventilated while reading the rest of the paragraph. I wore a dark turtleneck for months thanks to Holden Caulfield and stopped washing my hair to pay homage to Kerouac. I had my first kiss and my first cigarette behind the rounded exterior on the west side of the library. I can't remember what color the walls were in my childhood bedroom or what I got for my 10th birthday, but all I have to do is close my eyes and I can see the library perfectly. The wood paneling on the walls, the two-tone wood tables and chairs, the tall counter of the librarian's desk, the beanbags in the kids' area, the boxy white microfiche readers and the long row of shelves where the encyclopedias and Kelly Blue Books were stored. Books can transform any child who takes the time to let it happen and I was no exception. I set out each day, book in hand and loved the feeling of finally taking a break, only to discover that it was almost dinner time.

I still frequent the library just as much, but in a very different capacity. These days you can find me hunting down the board book with the most puppy photos (NOT illustrations) and skimming the cookbooks where I carry out as many as I can hold. I check my library account every day and can't remember the last time that my requests dropped below 30. I am that crazy person who gets it, renews it 3 times, grudgingly returns it, comes home, requests it again. After 7 or 8 months of this I sometimes buy it. So you can imagine how my long-standing relationship with the Dewey Decimal system has influenced my opinion on fancy e-readers.

I've spent a lot of time forcing myself not to think about the amazing abilities of the Kindle, the Nook, the horribly named iPad. Part of my aversion stems from my refusal to bring any item into our home that doesn't, a: Get rid of arm jiggle b: Make my eyes look less puffy c: Allow me to sleep right through diaper washing/bean soaking day or d: Glue my cowlicks down for at least 3 hours but whenever the gadget lust kicks in I see the face of my favorite childhood librarian and poof! just like that...it's gone. I think of how she looked the other way when I'd bust out my Fun Dip packet and discreetly steal licks from the front pocket of my backpack, the day she solemnly set "War and Peace" in my too young hands and said, "Now, this is probably too old for you, but you may want to give it a try." These are the words that all kids dream of hearing and from then on I felt a new sense of purpose to my reading.

I recently popped into our neighborhood Barnes & Noble so the boys could play with the fancy train set and practically fell over the giant table in the entryway that overflowed with Nooks. Behind the table a salesman said, "Hi! Would you like to try one?" I think I covered my mouth with my hand and shook my head quickly. Then he went in for the kill: "Are you sure? We haveallllll these new colors to choose from..." As we bolted for the kids' section I forced myself not to look back. I am that old female cliche when it comes to color choices, after all.

For now, I study my cuticles while my Amazon wish list loads to avoid seeing the big Kindle on the front page, but I'm guessing later this year when Kindle allows the loaning of library e-books I, too, will break down and be one of the many moms coordinating my Bensimon sneakers with the fancy pattern on my e-reader cover.