My Words Flew Away Like Birds

Written by Debora Pearson

Illustrated by Shrija Jain

Kids Can Press

978-1-5253-0318-0

40 pp.

Ages 4-8

October 2021

There are all kinds of fitting in. But when you're new to a country with a new language, it is especially hard. Not only are you missing your old home with its familiar people and places, you're in a new place where communication is near impossible. For the child in My Words Flew Away Like Birds, she is completely unprepared for the vacuum of language with which she and her parents must endure.

That was my world 

back then.

This little girl remembers the trees, the noisy market, her grandfather's bakery, and her friends. In preparation for their move, her mother teaches her some rudimentary phrases that should help break the ice, like "Hello, how are you?," and "It was nice to meet you." 

From My Words Flew Away Like Birds by Debora Pearson, illus. by Shrija Jain

The words felt strange 

and lumpy 

in my mouth.

But, though she is amazed by the things she sees, like snow and a dog in a coat and booties, everyone speaks so fast in her new country and she cannot grasp the words or their meaning. She tries desperately to watch and listen but she feels so lost. 

From My Words Flew Away Like Birds by Debora Pearson, illus. by Shrija Jain

It's not until the next spring when she helps a little girl who falls off a playground swing that she can use one of her learned phrases, experiment with echoing the other child's words, and finally make the connection that makes her feel she belongs.

Many of us know what it's like to travel to new places where different languages are spoken. If we're considerate, we try our best to communicate in their language but appreciate it when the locals help us out by speaking in ours. But for immigrants, immersion in a new culture with a new language is undoubtedly daunting. Not only do they have to navigate bureaucratic and new cultural norms, they often must do so in a new language. For children who are desperate to make connections at school or in their neighbourhoods, how do they do this without words? Fortunately, what the child in My Words Flew Away Like Birds realizes eventually is that kindness and play have no language barriers and learning only happens when mistakes are made. These are both simple and complex messages and Debora Pearson shares them with a convincing text rich in auditory embellishments and striking dialogue, emphasizing what is most important to the young child. She'll remember the sounds she hears and the muffled vocalizations, hand-lettered for emphasis, until they can become words to her, words that don't fly away but instead are ones she can grab hold of.

From My Words Flew Away Like Birds by Debora Pearson, illus. by Shrija Jain

Artist Shrija Jain's pen and ink illustrations, which were coloured digitally, underscore the importance of the words and the connectivity between child and place. Using only pastel shades of blue, rose, purple and orange to offset the vivid black details of hand-lettered words, the immigrant family and those with whom they interact, and sparse landscape elements, Shrija Jain demonstrates what is truly important: connection through communication in all its forms and efforts.

This child may feel like the words of her first language flew away but she does find some new words and is delighted to move forward and recognize that "these words are here to stay." As with much learning, it happens with time and practice, and that includes mistakes, and the making of connections to make that learning worthwhile.

Birds on Wishbone Street

Written and illustrated by Suzanne Del Rizzo

Pajama Press

‎ 978-1-77278-219-6

40 pp.

Ages 5-8

November 2021

Wishbone Street is more than just a bunch of houses. It's a multicultural community, welcoming and supportive of all. And when a cardinal is injured, that community brings them all, newcomers and long-time residents, together to do good.

From Birds on Wishbone Street by Suzanne Del Rizzo

Moe loves her street, her neighbours, the parkette and all the things she can do there: bird-watching, tree-climbing, and treasure-finding. There's the elderly Ms. Francesca and her caregiver Ms. Frieda, Mei and her little brother Omari, and Mable, the massive maple tree in their neighbourhood parkette. When Syrian refugees Sami and his family (from Suzanne Del Rizzo's My Beautiful Birds) arrive on the street, Moe drops off a welcome box for the young boy. Moe and Sami realize soon enough that they share a love of birds so when winter's first snowfall comes and they discover a female cardinal stunned in the snow, they and their neighbours spring into action: Sami provides the box, Moe brings a blanket, and Ms. Frieda drives them to the vet.

From Birds on Wishbone Street by Suzanne Del Rizzo

Taking the bird home to recuperate, Sami shares with Moe his story and his treasures, memories from his homeland, and he teaches Moe and her friends to make suet treats and roosting pockets. (Directions are included at the end of the book.) With a happy ending, Moe and Sami and all their friends on Wishbone Street demonstrate that good things happen when we work together and show compassion for everyone.

Suzanne Del Rizzo's polymer clay art has always impressed, giving new textures and colours to already-strong stories. But when she illustrates her own stories, Suzanne Del Rizzo shines. There is a synergy of her words and art that elevates both into something truly extraordinary. In Birds on Wishbone Street, Suzanne Del Rizzo honours her own family and those of all immigrants to Canada, and upholds the idea that communities are based on an appreciation for our differences and acknowledgement of our commonalities. With that sense of community, great things can happen: a newcomer feels at home, a bird is helped, and important learning can happen. And with her magnificent art, created with polymer clay, acrylic glaze and other mixed media, Suzanne Del Rizzo takes us to Wishbone Street, into the parkette and into the snow, to bird-watch with Sami and Moe, to yearn for cannoli and churros shared between neighbours, and to feel those first snowflakes on our faces. We're there on Wishbone Street, watching as a world unfolds and enfolds, making one community out of many.

From Birds on Wishbone Street by Suzanne Del Rizzo

There may be snow in Birds on Wishbone Street and on our streets today but this picture book will serve as inspiration year round to promoting the joys of including everyone in our communities to the benefit of all.

Two Drops of Brown in a Cloud of White

Written by Saumiya Balasubramaniam

Illustrated by Eva Campbell

Groundwood Books

978-1-77306-258-7

32 pp.

Ages 3-7

October 2020

While there are many, many wonderful books about winter and snow and the experiences with both, Two Drops of Brown in a Cloud of White reminds us that those interactions are not the same for all of us. They are distinct for the young who long to play in the snow, for the fortunate to have shelter from the it, for those familiar and acclimatized to it, and for those who must endure it. When a child and her mother walk home from school, the distinction of their attitudes to the snow is evident. Fortunately, their affection for the other helps them appreciate both perspectives.

From Two Drops of Brown in a Cloud of White by Saumiya Balasubramaniam, illus. by Eva Campbell

As a girl revels in the snow and ice of their walk home, her mother displays an overabundance of caution and even scorn for winter's elements. "Watch out for black ice" and "Do as you like" are just a few of her protestations as the child glides on the ice and makes footprints in the snow. The child sees ice cream in her snowball and makes snow people while Ma tucks herself deeper into her royal-blue scarf and wishes for the sun.

From Two Drops of Brown in a Cloud of White by Saumiya Balasubramaniam, illus. by Eva Campbell

But they really aren't that different. The girl knows that her mother loves colour–"So much snow," says Ma. "So monochromatic"–but so does she. She sees their cat, Kitty, in the grey cloud with blue spots for eyes; she is charmed by the rainbow of colours that are scattered by her mother's diamond on her nose; and she sees the brown of maple syrup in the dry leaves. 

From Two Drops of Brown in a Cloud of White by Saumiya Balasubramaniam, illus. by Eva Campbell

Still by the time they reach home, they can both see the colour of themselves as two drops of brown in a cloud of white snow.

Author Saumiya Balasubramaniam was inspired by her own winter walks with her daughter to write Two Drops of Brown in a Cloud of White. If the story reflects her own experiences, then it's evident that their two perspectives which may have started out as different–not unusual as they would have different life experiences–ultimately converge, with an appreciation for their differences and acceptance of their similarities.  Two drops of brown would contrast significantly with the whiteness of the snow but they are still similar to each other. As such, Two Drops of Brown in a Cloud of White definitely speaks to diversity of perspective, of people, and of time and place.

From Two Drops of Brown in a Cloud of White by Saumiya Balasubramaniam, illus. by Eva Campbell

 

To tell promote both the realism and sentimentalism of the story, Eva Campbell's oil and pastel on canvas illustrations use boldness of colour, even for the snow, but also a softness of stroke. By emphasizing both the realistic and the poetic, Eva Campbell evokes an authentic mother-daughter interaction but also the romance of the snow and their relationship. They may see themselves as two drops of brown in a cloud of white but they are more. They are blue with cold and red with love and it's also courtesy of Eva Campbell's art.

Snow may be cold but Saumiya Balasubramaniam and Eva Campbell's Two Drops of Brown in a Cloud of White creates the warmth of family and acceptance.

My Name is Konisola

Written by Alisa Siegel

Second Story Press

978-1-77260-119-0

176 pp.

Ages 9-12

March 2020

This is a story of generosity. Of how open-hearted strangers stepped into the life of a mother and a child. Of how remarkable coincidences, good fortune, and human connections rescued a young girl. And of how darkness became light. 

With this preamble, Alisa Siegel, a radio documentarian, begins the story of nine-year-old Konisola and her mother Abimbola as they escape an abusive situation in Nigeria and attempt to make a new life in Canada.

After an especially brutal attack by Konisola's uncle, their male guardian since the death of the girl's father, Konisola's mother stealthily grabs her child from school and they travel to Toronto. Their first bit of good luck comes when they meet Ayo, a fellow passenger, who gives them her address so they'd have something to tell the Canada Border Services agents. When Abimbola tells them "We need protection" and gives them the address, she is reassured that they will receive a notice about appearing before the Refugee Protection Division.

While staying with Ayo, Abimbola collapses and is taken to hospital. With Ayo's return to Nigeria, Konisola goes to stay with another woman who expects the girl to take care of the household and not go to school. After many weeks, Konisola contacts her mother's nurse, Colleen, and learns that her mother has advanced colon cancer. Though Konisola is ever hopeful that her mother will be with her soon, it becomes evident that Abimbola will never leave the hospital.

Colleen arranges for another nurse, Darlene, to take Konisola home with her. This is surprising to Konisola, as Darlene is white and already has her daughter Sara and grandson Kayden living with her. But over time, Darlene begins to feel like home.

As rife as Konisola's life is with worries of her ill mother and foreign living situation, some fortuitous circumstances ensure Konisola's safety, which is everything her mother wanted for her daughter. From meeting Ayo and then Colleen, and then Darlene, the right people found their way into Konisola's life. Her mother stays well enough to attend the refugee hearing and even make sure her wishes for Konisola's adoption are clear. At the hospital, Konisola meets Willson whose wife is also ill and this man, a retired lawyer, who was once the Children's Lawyer of Ontario, advises them through the legal adoption process.

From abusive circumstances in Nigeria to finding a new home with a new family, Konisola's story is one of angst and uncertainty. The child endures worries about her mother's health, the strangers in whose care she has been placed, the opportunities of going to school and being with other children and whether she'll ever be able to just be herself and a child. Imagine being a child and worrying that any pleasure you take in life, from play or laughter, is inappropriate. Even when she finally gets adopted–and there is a photo of an older Konisola and Darlene that proves the story is based in reality–she wonders, "Is it possible to find and lose a family at the very same moment?" (pg. 150)

Still Alisa Siegel, a true documentarian, develops Konisola's story with objectivity and distinction for her young audience. She tells it with accuracy from the perspective of a child who is often kept in the dark about adult problems but who shows the resilience and fortitude to endure.  I suspect Konnie has done well for herself, heeding her mother's sage advice:

Your present circumstances do not determine where you go, they merely determine where you begin. (pg. 133)

The Beauty of the Moment

Written by Tanaz Bhathena

Penguin Teen Canada

978-0-7352-6374-1

384 pp.

Ages 12+

February 2019

Reviewed from advance reader's edition

They say that those who look to the past are often saddened, those who look to the future only are anxious and those who stay in the present are content. While this is tremendously oversimplified, it could describe the experiences of seventeen-year-old Susan Foster who has immigrated from Saudi Arabia with her parents to Mississauga. Actually, although her father, whom she calls Appa, came with them to purchase a condo and a car, arranged for driving lessons for Susan and registration for school, and generally got Susan and Amma established, he has returned to Jeddah to his work as a doctor, hopeful of soon joining them permanently. So, except for regular Skype visits and phone calls to friends and family, Susan and Amma are left to navigate their new lives in Canada essentially alone.

While Alisha, her best friend in Jeddah, insists Susan is lucky to be in Canada, away from dating restrictions, Susan sees the complexity of her new situation. She will be living alone with her mother, a woman who focuses only on Susan's academic excellence and is bitter that they've moved essentially for Susan's education, and away from Appa who seemed more amenable to Susan's artistic proclivities.

In Jeddah, my father played the role of a buffer, the water to my mother's fire, a tree that bent to her wind instead of resisting its pressure. (pg. 75)

Though Susan has always excelled at school, she is learning that she is much better at rote and memorization than at interactive learning like labs and even her driving lessons. And not doing well is not an option, especially as Appa is directing her to medical school and Amma to engineering. She can't even tell them that what she dreams about is going to art school.

And then there are the boys. Actually there is one boy, Malcolm Vakil, who has caught Susan's eye, as she has caught his. Dealing with the death of his mother and a father who is abusive and cheated on his mother, Malcolm turned his grief and anger into behaviours his teachers and father see as problematic. But, though he's had a history of sneaking out, drinking and smoking, doing drugs and dating the beautiful but capricious Afrin Patel, Malcolm finds himself drawn away from those behaviours and towards Susan.

The Beauty of the Moment, told in alternating chapters from Susan and Malcolm's perspectives, focuses on the merging of two teens' stories, rich with back stories and future ambitions. Because their story is neither straightforward nor uncomplicated, exactly as life is, The Beauty of the Moment takes the reader backwards, sideways and in circles as the two may or may not find their way to each other and contentment in their family situations.

Tanaz Bhathena rocketed onto the YA CanLit scene in 2018 with her debut novel A Girl Like That (Farrar Straus Giroux, 2018) that captured the tragedies of a Saudi teen's relationship with a boy in a place of gender inequality and religious restrictions. By moving this story to Mississauga, while tethering it to Saudi Arabia via Alisha and Appa, Tanaz Bhathena expands her story to one of immigration and cultural contrast.  Yet The Beauty of the Moment is still a story of teens because Susan and Malcolm could be any teens, dealing with family, school, dating and considering their futures. Their stories are just more complicated because of cultural expectations.

Still it is the way Tanaz Bhathena tells their stories, imbuing them with the distinction of their situations and with the eloquence of voice and thought, that uplifts the plot. It may be titled The Beauty of the Moment, but the book makes sure to see that the lifetime beyond the moment helps create that beauty. There are former lives that we think were better but also hold uncomfortable memories. There is the future which generates dread but holds the promise of opportunity and change.

"Nothing lasts forever," I say. "Not this snowflake. Not our homes, not our families. But it doesn't mean you can't live in the beauty of the moment." (pg. 221)

It's being mindful of that moment and all the beauty it entails that brings contentment, and that's what Susan and Malcolm ultimately attain. That's a beautiful thing.

Mr. Mergler, Beethoven, and Me

Written by David Gutnick

Illustrated by Mathilde Cinq-Mars

Second Story Press

978-1-77260-059-9

32 pp.

Ages 7-10

Mach 2018

If this was June 21, Mr. Mergler, Beethoven, and Me would be a valuable tome for International Music Day.  If it was December or March, we could acknowledge Beethoven’s birthday or death with this picture book.  But in February, this wonderful story about a music teacher and his student celebrates embracing one’s passion, here a love of music.

From Mr. Mergler, Beethoven, and Me 

by David Gutnick 

illus. by Mathilde Cinq-Mars

This is the story, inspired by true events, of a young girl and her parents who have just immigrated to Canada from China.  While the child swings in the park, her father chats with an elderly man whom he introduces to his daughter as Mr. Daniel Mergler, a man who has taught piano to hundreds of children over more than fifty years.  Though the family obviously does not have money for extras such as piano lessons, Mr. Mergler sees something in the young girl who had taught herself sufficiently well to play for their church. 

Something tells me she understands the magic that music can bring to her life.  If she does, that is all the payment I will need.

From Mr. Mergler, Beethoven, and Me 

by David Gutnick 

illus. by Mathilde Cinq-Mars

At Mr. Mergler’s studio, the child begins her lessons with the elderly man, while a bust of the stern-looking Beethoven looks down from his perch upon the piano.  Though she finds reading music and the lessons difficult at first, she progresses well and is the recipient of many gold stars from her teacher who shares with her the magic of the music. 

But her time with Mr. Mergler is cut short after "twenty-six magical lessons" when the man falls ill and pens a moving letter to his “star pupil” and bequeaths her his Beethoven bust. 

Mr. Mergler, Beethoven, and Me has all the elements to inspire.  There is music, and passion, and determination and effort and empathy.  In less than a year, one man found a seed of music in a young girl and nurtured it into a skilled talent, demonstrating the ability of music to make time disappear and touch the heart, even making the cranky Beethoven happy. Author David Gutnick takes this story from a documentary he produced for CBC's The Sunday Edition called “Beethoven’s Bust” (listen to it here http://www.cbc.ca/player/play/2501123338) based on the dying piano teacher’s need to speak about the best student he’d ever had.  Accompanied by Quebec artist Mathilde Cinq-Mars’s soft and harmonious illustrations of gentle pencil colours and line, Mr. Mergler, Beethoven, and Me is a complete package of kindness and empathy: in actions, in the words and in the art.  Save it for International Piano Day (March 29) or maybe World Kindness Day (November 3). Or any day a little magic is needed.

From Mr. Mergler, Beethoven, and Me 

by David Gutnick 

illus. by Mathilde Cinq-Mars

Sadia

Written by Colleen Nelson

Dundurn

978-1-45974-029-7

240 pp.

Ages 12+

February 2018

As I passed the classroom door, I caught sight of myself in the small pane of glass.  Was it the hijab that Mariam was running away from?  Seeing me must remind her of who she really was, who she'd always be.  I wished she'd realize that taking off her hijab wasn't going to change that. (pg. 82)

For Sadia's friend Mariam, de-jabbing i.e., removal of her hijab when at school and changing into more revealing clothes improper for a Muslim girl are the means to fit in and become recognized by athletic classmate Josh.  While Sadia would never contemplate doing the same, she tries to understand her friend's need to shed her headscarf and appreciate her perspective on being a Muslim girl in a Winnipeg high school.  And perspective is everything she and her classmates realize after their teacher—and also basketball coach—Mr. Letner gives them an assignment based on the premise of "If you give a kid a camera."  While Sadia and her classmates begin to take photos of their lives, they reveal much about what they experience at home and at school including family challenges, hidden passions and friendships lost and found.

While she undertakes her project, which evolves to include a passion project to help newly-arrived refugees, Sadia grapples with Mariam's de-jabbing and drive to fit in which becomes more complicated after Sadia is chosen for the school's All City Pre-Season Co-ed Basketball Team on which Josh plays.  Sadia is thrilled to be playing the game that her brother taught her and accepts the accommodations she must make to play–changing in private, covering up far more than her teammates, and wearing her hijab–but being on the team causes more friction with Mariam, especially after Josh's attentions are directed towards Sadia.  It all comes to a climax at the tournament when Sadia's hijab becomes a mobilizing force for family, friends, teammates and strangers.

Sadia addresses Sadia's honest acceptance of her Muslim culture but also how she finds the means to meld it with her love for basketball, rather than abandon one passion for another.  Sadia's self-acceptance is mature and extraordinary and she would be an impressive role model for Muslim girls trying to find their own way.  Without being deceptive or disingenuous, Sadia helps new Muslim girl Amira prepare for her new life in Canada and show Mariam that it is possible to be a practising Muslim and have fun.  Just like the photography assignment Mr. Letner gives his class, it is all about point of view.

Author Colleen Nelson continues to ramp up her writing, developing characters with whom all readers can identify.  From those dealing with bullying, guilt and grief (The Fall, 2013), or abandonment and discrimination (250 Hours, 2015), or with sexual abuse and drug addiction (Finding Hope, 2016) and poverty and violence (Blood Brothers, 2017), Colleen Nelson pens real characters whose decisions propel them into life-changing situations.  For the first time, Colleen Nelson has given Muslim girls a role model, a girl who recognizes that she has been accorded much attention and discrimination because of how others perceive her hijab, often incorrectly, but who appreciates what being a Muslim means and accepts those cultural traditions as the basis for whom she is.  Sadia does not struggle with wearing the hijab, as does her friend Mariam, but when thrust into the limelight where wearing the hijab might prevent her from playing basketball, she considers with great thought and insight what it means to continue wearing it.  Still she stays true to herself, empowered, not restricted, by her hijab or being Muslim.  For her, de-jabbing would be negating her true self, just as not playing basketball would.  In Sadia, being yourself is better than having it all and being Muslim is in itself empowering.

🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀🏀

Check back tomorrow for Colleen Nelson's guest blog post titled "5 Things You Didn't Know about Sadia" and upcoming blog tour stops at Lost in a Great Book, MG Book Village and Dundurn Press.

Greetings, Leroy

Written by Itah Sadu

Illustrated by Alix Delinois

Groundwood Books

978-1-55498-760-3

32 pp.

Ages 4-7

May 2017

Greetings, Leroy is one long email from a new Canadian boy named Roy to his friend Leroy in Jamaica, telling about his new life and first day at school.  But as the young boy tries to connect with his friend, missing so much of his Jamaican home, it becomes evident that his new life in Canada is already rich with Jamaican connections.

From Greetings, Leroy 

by Itah Sadu

illus. by Alix Delinois

Roy looks a little saddened sitting at his computer, trying to get a response from his friend Leroy, one of the many Roys on his soccer team.  There’s Iroy, Delroy, Uroy, Stedroy, Buckroy, Royson and, of course, Leroy.  With all the Roys back home in Jamaica, it’s no wonder Roy feels left out.  And it’s no wonder he’s nervous about the first day of school in Canada when his peer support system isn’t with him.  

But the day brings warm surprises of reminders of his Jamaican home, from his father playing Bob Marley and the Wailers, and their neighbour Ms. Muir giving him a Bob Marley button.  

I puffed out my chest big, big and grinned from ear to ear, because Bob Marley was Jamaican and I am Jamaican, too. (pg. 8)

At school, the principal has a picture of Bob Marley playing soccer and his new class greets him with “Welcome, Roy, one love” (pg. 13) channelling Marley’s song, “One Love.”  But when Roy realizes that he’s lost his Bob Marley button after showing it to the principal, it becomes a frantic search that ends happily, just as Roy’s email to Leroy does.

From Greetings, Leroy 

by Itah Sadu 

illus. by Alix Delinois

Storyteller Itah Sadu, much loved for her book Christopher, Please Clean Up Your Room (re-released in 2006 by Scholastic Canada) and known for her bookstore A Different Booklist in Toronto, creates effortlessly the voice of a young boy bridging two worlds: his former life in Jamaica and a new one in Canada. (Born in Canada but raised in Barbados and then returning to Canada, Itah Sadu would have first-hand knowledge.)  Greetings, Leroy is a story about moving and moving on, respectful of the two worlds from and into which Roy will grow.  Itah Sadu makes it clear that the two worlds are not separate entities but rather interconnected parts of Roy’s world, bringing him joy and memories and opportunities.  

Haitian-born artist Alix Delinois has already made a name for himself as the illustrator behind Muhammad Ali:  The People’s Champion (Walter Dean Myers, 2016), Eight Days: A Story of Haiti (Edwidge Danticat, 2010) and Mumbet’s Declaration of Independence (Gretchen Woelfle, 2014), all stories that celebrate Black culture and history. With Greetings, Leroy, Alix Delinois is able to apply his bold artwork to a similarly relevant story, though here focusing on a Jamaican boy’s new life in Canada, and honouring Itah Sadu’s story with pride and festivity for an old life lived and a new life’s promise.

As a story of immigration, of new experiences and first days at school, Greetings, Leroy may take many back to those uneasy days of newness but reminds us that, as Bob Marley sang, everything’s gonna be alright.  

From Greetings, Leroy 

by Itah Sadu 

illus. by Alix Delinois

Stepping Stones: A Refugee Family’s Journey

by Margriet Ruurs

Artwork by Nizar Ali Badr

Orca Book Publishers

978-1-459814905

28 pp.

All ages

October 2016

Stepping Stones: A Refugee Family’s Journey is a very important book on so many fronts.  At face value, it recounts in memorable artwork and text the plight of refugees from Syria, Nizar Ali Badr’s home, or elsewhere, now and forever.  But beyond bringing understanding to the refugee crisis, Stepping Stones is a book of encouragement to those arriving in Canada –the book is a dual-language edition in both English and Arabic–and to those who can contribute to the cause.

This is the story told from the perspective of a young girl, Rama, who recounts life in Syria, from the rooster crowing her family (Mama, Papa, grandfather Jedo and brother Sami) awake, and a breakfast of bread, yogurt and tomatoes, and memories of play and work, school and freedom.

But that was then.And this is now. (pg. 10)

From Stepping Stones: A Refugee Family's Journey 

by Margriet Ruurs, art by Nizar Ali Badr

But their freedom is an illusion, and after war comes, there is insufficient food and the bombings, and people begin to leave.

People began to leave our village.
First a trickle, then a stream,
across dusty fields under a burning sun,
a stream driven by hope. (pg. 14)

So too begins Rama’s family exodus, walking until reaching the sea, whereupon they “set sail on the waves of hope and prayer” (pg. 20), arriving on land where the gruelling trek begins again, until they arrive at their future, welcomed by neighbours who communicate with smiles and the sharing of clothes and food and more.

The lucky ones, they call us.
New memories, new hopes,
     new dreams.
Not of war,
but of peace. (pg. 25)

All told in the artistry of Nizar Ali Badr’s stunning arrangements of oddly-shaped and widely-coloured stones, Stepping Stones could be the story of any refugee family: a good life bombarded by war, a demanding and emotional flight from danger, and the arrival to a new life.  Though for each family the path is a unique arrangement of steps, its bearing is always the same: safety and opportunity.  Stepping Stones: A Refugee Family’s Journey reveals this route with empathy and assurance.

Margriet Ruurs provides an extensive foreward that explains the background of Stepping Stones coming to publication.  She accounts her herculean efforts to contact artist Nizar Ali Badr after viewing his wondrous artwork of stones, about convincing him and Orca Book Publishers to take on the project, and arranging for a portion of the proceeds from the sale of the books to be donated to resettlement agencies.  The task may have been as arduous as that of Sisyphus but the ultimate story of Stepping Stones: A Refugee Family’s Journey, both within and externally, culminates with promise and purpose, the hallmarks of a good life.

From Stepping Stones: A Refugee Family's Journey 

by Margriet Ruurs, art by Nizar Ali Badr

Dance of the Banished

by Marsha Forchuk Skrypuch

Pajama Press

978-1- 927485-65-1

288 pp.

Ages 12+

August 22, 2014

Dance of the Banished is an old tale.  It's the familiar love story in which two young people are separated, here by family, distance and war.  But, sadly, it's also the story of prejudice, fear, and injustice, and the subsequent torment that intensifies that separation.  Dance of the Banished may be an old story in its foundations, but its context is wholly unique, expertly researched and penned by award-winning author Marsha Forchuk Skrypuch.

Our story begins in 1913 Anatolia (now essentially the republic of Turkey), a nation of Christians, Muslims and Alevis, an ancient group with a unique Islamist belief system.  When Ali, a young Alevi Kurd, unexpectedly immigrates to Canada with his married brother Yousef, he leaves behind his betrothed, Zeynep, another Alevi Kurd, giving her a notebook in which to write him until they are together again.  Having planned to go together once they'd saved enough money, Zeynep knows Ali's mother has orchestrated this separation, and refuses to wait for him, though she gifts him with her blue evil eye necklace to keep him safe.

Though both Ali and Zeynep record their experiences in their matching notebooks, providing the basis for this book, neither is communicating directly with the other.  In fact, hearing nothing from Ali and no longer feeling a part of her community, Zeynep follows visiting Protestant missionaries to the city of Harput, hopeful of improving her lot in life, including getting an education.  Though the lifestyles of the Christian North Americans and Armenians in their Western clothing and the Turkish Muslims differ significantly from her own, Zeynep appreciates this diversity, learning and helping the Reverend John Emmonds and his wife Lenore at the hospital and at their simple home.

With much strife in Europe at the beginning of 1914, the Ottoman army is becoming more oppressive to the Alevis and the Armenians, raiding villages, taking whatever they choose, and finally, when Austria-Hungary and Germany declare war on Russia, threatening death to those who attempt to escape the draft or those who help them.  Within a few months, the Alevis are starving, and the Armenians are being murdered en masse.  Zeynep watches and listens, documenting all she witnesses in her notebook; in fact, she begins recording everything for the American Consul, Leslie Davis, who plays a significant role in saving the lives of many.

Meanwhile, with the declaration of war in 1914, Ali and Yousef, like all foreigners, are let go from their jobs in Brantford Ontario. Rounded up as Turkish "enemy aliens", Ali and Yousef, along with many others, are shipped to the wilderness of Kapuskasing.  Still in a minority, the Alevis are forced to cut majestic trees, contrary to Alevism, and endure the never-ending discrimination, even within the camp.

On different sides of the world, Zeynep and Ali continue to honour their beliefs and heritage, though choosing to think beyond themselves, all the while wondering about the other, their safety and potential for reunion.

Spotlighting little known historical injustices has become a trademark for Marsha Forchuk Skrypuch, her desire to enlighten and disclose indicative of her own integrity and search for equity.  From the Armenian genocide (The Hunger, 2001; Nobody's Child, 2003; Daughter of War, 2008), to the Ukrainian Holodomyr (Enough, 2004), the treatment of Ukrainians during World War II (Stolen Child, 2010; Making Bombs for Hitler, 2012; Underground Soldier, 2014) and the Vietnamese War orphans (Last Airlift, 2012; One Step at a Time, 2013), Marsha Skrypuch ensures that transgressions, even atrocities, from our histories are not forgotten.

By creating legitimate characters in her fiction who bring varied and personal perspectives to the situations experienced and who speak through their questions and confusions and convictions, Marsha Skrypuch can tell the whole story, not just the public one.  In Dance of the Banished, we listen to Alevi Kurds and Armenians in both Canada and Anatolia, to those with family and those without, to the Turks shamed by the actions of their government and those complicit in the horrors, to Canadians who stood guard at internment camps and those who recognized the discrimination for what it was. Consequently, her readers submit to understanding the big picture, not necessarily the pretty, sanitized one.  And we are grateful for that opportunity and bold honesty.

Dance of the Banished reveals truths from Canada and Asia Minor that some may prefer to leave forgotten or hidden, but Marsha Skrypuch's words and heart tell us that we can trust her to tell it right and well, as she does so eloquently here and always.

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Today, across Canada, one hundred commemorative plaques are being unveiled to recognize the internment of "enemy aliens" such as Ali in camps across Canada.  Check the map of all sites at the Ukrainian Canadian Civil Liberties Foundation here to attend one close to your location at 11 a.m. local time.

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Check back tomorrow for a guest post by author Marsha Forchuk Skrypuch who answers questions about Dance of the Banished for readers of CanLit for LittleCanadians.