Imagine for a moment that you are a grandmother, or a grandfather — a Nana or a Papa, to a sweet six year old. Let’s call her Lily. Perhaps you have silvery hair and “crumples” — in the words of a child I knew, who once called wrinkles, crumples. Or perhaps you are not there, yet.
Lily snuggles close to you in an armchair just big enough to fit, and hands you a picture book to read out loud. The pages reveal a bouncy rhyming rhythm, children, an older character, and unfortunately, words like fusty, dusty, rusty, and musty. Also, grumpy and frumpy.
- Read with your good nature intact and shrug it off
- Stop mid-page and offer ice cream instead of a book
- Quickly recapture the pig latin of your youth and improvise… ustyfay, ustyday, ustyray, umpygray!
Personally, I look forward to being a Nana someday (or an Ouma), but my pig Latin is no longer that good and my kids will tell you, if you ask, that I would never choose option A with regards to ageism. You may think I am kidding about modern day children’s books riddled with negative age stereotypes. I am not.
From where I sit — currently alone in the armchair, there seems to be three basic types of children’s books to beware of:
- Those that totally exploit the stereotypes (sadly, madly, and badly)
- Those that are well-meaning, even tender, but perpetuate “older adult means lonely, sick, forgetful, dependent…”
- Those with illustrations sending messages that older people are funny or freaky or frumpy or foolish
The bottom line? I believe the biggest issue is there are so few books for children that make having many, many birthdays seem like a good thing.