Every Kid on the Cover

This project is devoted to children's picture books that openly deal with issues of identity, difference, and discrimination, as well as stories that feature main characters of diverse abilities, gender identities and expressions, ethnic and racial backgrounds, nationalities, economic means, faith practices, and family structures where being different is not necessarily the focus.

[npr]

Marley Dias is like a lot of 11-year-olds: She loves getting lost in a book.

But the books she was reading at school were starting to get on her nerves. She enjoyed Where The Red Fern Grows and the Shiloh series, but those classics, found in so many elementary school classrooms, “were all about white boys or dogs … or white boys and their dogs,” Marley says.

Black girls, like Marley, were almost never the main character.

Last fall, Marley decided to do something about it. She set a goal of collecting 1,000 books about black girls by the beginning of February, and #1000blackgirlbooks was born.

She has far exceeded her goal, with almost 4,000 books and counting. Now, she wants to set up a black girl book club and pressure school districts to change what books are assigned to students. Morning Edition’s David Greene spoke with Marley about her campaign and how she’s handled her success.

Where’s The Color In Kids’ Lit? Ask The Girl With 1,000 Books (And Counting)

Photo: Andrea Cipriani Mecchi

[everykidonthecover]

Sex is a Funny Word: A Book about Bodies, Feelings, and You (2015) by Cory Silverberg and Fiona Smyth

Listen, I am so excited that this book exists that I was nearly brought to tears—not kidding. It’s just that Sex is a Funny Word is thorough in exactly all the right ways. It is open and gentle; for every fact or suggestion its authors present, there is a counterpoint: but you might not, or you don’t have to.

First of all, these illustrations! I remember being a kid and eyeing sex education books like, “I just don’t feel like these smiling girls making friendship bracelets.” Fiona Smyth’s drawings are bright and inviting, and much of the book is laid out in short chapters with comic panels, making it a quick, fun read. Above all, they are extraordinarily inclusive: from girls in hijabs to people signing, and right down to characters’ names. Another area in which the illustrations truly excel is in the depiction of people with disabilities. While so many stories get the gold star for “disability representation” for a token person using a wheelchair, Smyth has taken care to show many people (all kinds of people!), some using wheelchairs (different kinds of wheelchairs!) and others using canes, crutches, or prosthetics, often on the same page.

Sex is a Funny Word doesn’t try to explain it all, and that’s what I loved most about it. What it does instead is give kids an outline to shape their own understandings of sex and inspire curiosity. Every chapter concludes with a series of questions encouraging readers to think about their bodies, sex, and relationships, either by answering on their own or by having conversations with someone they trust—maybe the person who gave you this book, it suggests. Silverberg does such an excellent job of talking to kids on their terms without taking down to them, and the result is a book that feels a little bit like a hug: safe, playful, necessary and remarkably aware of the kinds of questions and concerns many of us actually have as children.

267 libraries have this books; does one near you?

[everykidonthecover]

Is That for a Boy or a Girl? (2015) by S. Bear Bergman; illustrated by Rachel Dougherty

The crowning accomplishment of Is That for a Boy or a Girl? is simply that it doesn’t rely on the trucks-for-girls and dolls-for-boys trope which is quickly growing tired in the micro-category of picture books that discuss gender. That’s an important story to tell, but it’s only one angle. Instead, Bergman introduces us to a dozen non-conforming kids (many of color and some with disabilities) who “mix and match everything they like to get what suits them best.” The book deals with a range of issues and follows a rough timeline, from toddlers choosing toys to graduates dealing with real life struggles like gendered bathrooms. Is That for a Boy or a Girl? also does a fantastic job of acknowledging that gender expression does not have to be static (e.g. today my pretty dress, tomorrow climbing trees), and validating those kids who just don’t know what they like yet.

No libraries currently own this brand new book, but you can buy a copy (in a complete set with 4-6 others) directly from the publisher, Flamingo Rampant.

[everykidonthecover]

M is for Mustache: A Pride ABC Book (2015) by Catherine Hernandez; illustrated by Marisa Firebaugh

Even books that claim to be very diverse or to represent multiple cultures often do so with a white character as a narrator or “tour guide,” in a way that frames whiteness as an invisible norm around which all other identities revolve. So the first thing that really struck me about M is for Mustache is the fact that its central character is Filipina, and a few of the the letters of her Pride alphabet are specific to her identity (T is for tita, the Filipina word for aunt). This book also introduces some ideas that many adults I know would have trouble grasping--but then, all the more reason to familiarize children with them early on. While managing to keep things brief and accessible, Hernandez touches on concepts of drag, gender expression, and chosen family. Finally, this alphabet’s most unique letter is probably S, which stands for smudging, the tradition of burning sage to acknowledge that the Pride march takes place on occupied land. M is for Mustache has the potential to be a really powerful teaching tool, but even more than that, it is an important, exciting addition to the world of picture books for those kids who may see reflections of their own families in its pages. 

No libraries currently own this brand new book, but you can buy a copy (in a complete set with 4-6 others) directly from the publisher, Flamingo Rampant.

[everykidonthecover]

Ganesha’s Sweet Tooth (2012) by Emily Haynes; illustrated by Sanjay Patel

For the last couple of years, I have been actively seeking out and passively taking note of as many “diverse” or “multicultural” or just “not-about-white-people” picture books as possible. I have accumulated several dozen list-scraps and tracked down various anthologies and bibliographies of children’s literature. Though I’m no expert, I think it’s safe to say that there is a dearth, relative even to other diverse books, of children’s stories about the Indian and South Asian diaspora, and the religious traditions that are practiced throughout much of this region.

In light of this fact, but also independently, Ganesha’s Sweet Tooth is a most welcome tale. The story starts out with an innocent love for sweet treats, and unfolds to recount the mythological origin of the Mahabharata, an ancient Sanskrit epic and one of the foundational texts of Hinduism. Plus, Patel’s illustrations are just so darn adorable that I giggled out loud. (I challenge you to not squeal at the sight of a chubby little pink Ganesha.)

620 libraries have this book; does one near you?

[everykidonthecover]

Girls Together (1999) by Sherley Anne Williams; illustrated by Synthia Saint James

Two sisters wake up one morning and round up their friends in the Project one by one, and they tackle the neighborhood one bike-ride and tree-climb at a time. Saint James’s bold illustrations are celebratory, and the girls dance like confetti from page to page. She doesn’t sacrifice anything in her two-dimensional style; the girls’ unique hairstyles, skin tones, and brightly colored outfits emphasize that each one is a special individual in her group of friends. At its heart, Girls Together is a story about five girls who share that particular taste for everyday adventure that's so integral to childhood.

375 libraries have this book; does one near you?

[everykidonthecover]

The Deaf Musicians (2006) by Pete Seeger and Paul DuBois Jacobs; illustrated by R. Gregory Christie

Rainbow Joe and Me (1999) by Maria Diaz Strom

I first encountered these two around the same time, and I feel that they’re a really interesting pair because of how superficially similar they are. One is about a group of deaf people and the other focuses on a blind man, but both The Deaf Musicians and Rainbow Joe center on the power of music. I think that, particularly when taken together, these two stories celebrate what music can look, feel, or sound like, that it can be a means of achieving something otherwise deemed impossible, or that it can be an end in itself. The deaf musicians make music together despite being unable to hear, signing and dancing on the subway, and as a result they all share a deep feeling of community. Rainbow Joe, on the other hand, is a blind man who loves to play his saxophone because it enables him to imagine or sense color. By sharing music as a common thread, these books are all the more powerful together. They illustrate beautifully what one thing might mean to various people with different dis/abilities.

885 libraries have The Deaf Musicians; does one near you?

422 libraries have Rainbow Joe and Me; does one near you?

[everykidonthecover]

Wild Berries (Pikaci-Mīnisa) (2013) by Julie Flett; illustrated by Earl N. Cook

Much like Niwechihaw / I Help, Wild Berries (Pikaci-Mīnisa) is a story about a young Cree boy and his grandmother picking berries in the woods. The cut-paper style illustrations by Earl N. Cook are dynamic and earthy; his plump blueberries defy their two dimensions and just about roll right off the page. Julie Flett has interspersed some Native language throughout, calling various animals and other details of the forest by their Cree names, and there is a handy glossary and pronunciation guide in the back for readers unfamiliar with the language. Learn more about First Nation Communities READ.

572 libraries have this book; does one near you?

[everykidonthecover]

Take Me Out to the Yakyu (2013) by Aaron Meshon

This book was a pure joy. Aaron Meshon has taken a single theme–baseball–and written two beautifully parallel stories in which the same boy attends an American ballgame with his grandpa and a Japanese ballgame with his ojiisan. For everything our hero does in the U.S., Meshon depicts an equivalent in Japan (and visa versa), right down to his bath at the end of a big day out. Ojiisan treats him to soba noodles while they cheer for their favorite team; he and his grandpa share peanuts at their game in America. I loved this format, and Meshon’s illustrations are a brightly colored treat in which every other inanimate object is wearing a smile. This is an awesome story, period, but I think especially for any kid who identifies as bi- or multiracial, or who considers more than one country home, Take Me Out to the Yakyu might be a winner.

1191 libraries have this book; does one near you?

[everykidonthecover]

Crossing Bok Chitto: A Choctaw Tale of Friendship & Freedom (2006) by Tim Tingle; illustrated by Jeanne Rorex Bridges

Okay everybody, this one’s a tearjerker. In antebellum Mississippi, a young Choctaw girl dares to cross the river that separates her world from a slave plantation, where she quickly befriends an enslaved boy. Upon learning that his family is facing terrible danger, [spoiler alert] she helps them all cross the wide river in the middle of the night. This book illustrates, through a historical lens, the importance, and even necessity, of allyship every day and especially in times of struggle.

1251 libraries have this book; does one near you?

[everykidonthecover]

My Name is Yoon (2003) by Helen Recorvits; illustrated by Gabi Swiatkowska

Yoon loves the way her name looks in Korean: playful, dancing, familiar. But when her family moves to America, her father encourages her to learn to write her name English, and Yoon is resistant. Gabi Swiatkowska’s sparse, surreal illustrations are a dreamy context for this simple story about identity and belonging.

1910 libraries have this book; does one near you?

[everykidonthecover]

Here I Am (2014) by Patti Kim; illustrated by Sonia Sánchez

Here I Am is wordless and vibrantly illustrated. It captures beautifully what (I imagine) it would feel like to immigrate to a new country where you do not understand the language and everything around you seems busier, more chaotic than what you’re used to. Sánchez’s street signs are gibberish, and her colors overlap and bleed into each other, outside the lines. She and Patti Kim have created a perfectly understated story by expressing the sounds, sights, and smells of a new place without relying on language.

705 libraries have this book; does one near you?

[everykidonthecover]

Less Than Half, More Than Whole (1994) by Kathleen and Michael Lacapa; illustrated by Michael Lacapa

Written and illustrated by a husband and wife for their three multiracial children, Less Than Half, More Than Whole celebrates being “in between.” Tony is troubled that he doesn’t look like one friend, whose parents are both Native–but also not like another friend who is white. Comforted by his older siblings and especially by his Native grandfather, he begins to not only come to terms with his mixed heritage, but also take pride in it and ultimately realizes that in a way, he is even “more than whole.”

466 libraries have this book; does one near you?

[everykidonthecover]

Dear Primo: A Letter to My Cousin (2010) by Duncan Tonatiuh

Formatted as a correspondence between two boys, one living in urban America and the other in rural Mexico, Dear Primo is a sweet depiction of two cousins’ curiosities about each other. The story bounces back and forth by topic, as one boy shares first what he does after school, then the other, and so on. Author and illustrator Duncan Tonatiuh’s drawings are directly inspired by ancient Mexican art, according to his website, and the figures rendered in this Mesoamerican, geometric style bring to life the mirrors between the two cousins’ lives.

1031 libraries have this book; does one near you?

[everykidonthecover]

Howie Helps Himself (1975) by Joan Fassler; illustrated by Joe Lasker

Though a bit dated, the key concept that makes Howie Helps Himself a winning story is right in the title. Fassler’s account of a young boy with cerebral palsy emphasizes independence and the overcoming of obstacles in such a way that is inspiring because it is, by my account, so rare. Howie’s struggles are not social in nature, as is often the case in picture books–and those books are important. But Howie is not made fun of at school, and the story arc does not depend on able-bodied peers coming to their own terms with Howie’s difference. The conflict in Howie Helps Himself is all about Howie, and it makes visible a different side of realistic challenges faced by people with disabilities.

1059 libraries have this book; does one near you?

[everykidonthecover]

Niwechihaw / I Help (2008) by Caitlin Dale Nicholson

Nicholson’s Niwechihaw is written in an ultra-simple style, alternating between Cree and English languages. With the course of a child’s day picking berries with his grandmother as a backdrop, the minimal sentences of Niwechihaw could make for a valuable bilingual learning tool, if not just a sweet, uncomplicated story.

108 libraries have this book; does one near you?

[everykidonthecover]

A is For Africa (1993) by Ifeoma Onyefulu

These colorful photographs of scenes of African life, paired with an alphabet of simple concepts (e.g. village, handshake), are a beautiful illustration of a frequently misrepresented continent, particularly for very young children. Written and photographed by a Nigerian woman, A is For Africa manages to focus on mostly universal, largely easy-to-grasp words and pictures without treating Africa as a monolith, as in, for example, “M is for Muslim.”

855 libraries have this book; does one near you?