Slice of Life Story Challenge #11 - Adrian Simcox Does NOT Have a Horse

 My focus this month is to explore writing invitations, mostly through newly published picture books, but possibly some other mentor texts as well. 

Adrian Simcox Does NOT Have a Horse by Marcy Campbell and Corinna Luyken (this is the second book illustrated by Corrina in my Slices of Life - a previous post was written about my heart!)
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

2018-book, aha-moment-signpost, character development, connections,creativity, diversity, empathy, gifted-character, imagination, mothers, picture-book, poverty, read, weneeddiversebooks

Thank you, Tanny McGregor, for tweeting about this one. I had it in my picture book pile, but after her tweet, I put it at the top. Oh my - didn't expect to get teary at this one, but that ending... This is an important book to share with children. Poverty and financial struggles are something we don't often think about when we think of diversity, but with more and more children experiencing it, to leave it out of our repertoire of windows and mirrors in our classroom and school libraries, we are missing an opportunity.

Chloe transforms, thanks to her wonderful and insightful mother (great ah-ha moment for signpost followers), and Adrian tugs at your heartstrings. I would also share it as an example of underrepresentation in gifted identification. Adrian might be overlooked as gifted - messy, a daydreamer, a seemingly outrageous storyteller. He has creative thinking ability written all over him! But will anyone realize that? I have added "poverty" and "financial struggles" bookshelves in Goodreads. By the way, I was fortunate enough to actually have a horse when I was growing up, but if I hadn't, I certainly would have conjured one up in my imagination! GORGEOUS and compelling illustrations! Great to round out a text set with previously mentioned books, I Walk with Vanessa and Each Kindness.
Beautiful review from The Book Mommy (Adrian Simcox was her favorite picture book of 2018)

View all my reviews

Writing invitation: Write about something imaginary that you felt was SO real, like an imaginary friend, OR if you tried to have an imaginary friend but couldn't conjure one up.  What do you think is useful about an imagination? Another direction you could go is to write about a friend who lives in a very different situation/house/etc. than you. 

(Books to share about imagination: Beekle: The Unimaginary Friend, Marilyn's Monster)
   
      When I was growing up, I lived in a community with families who had various socioeconomic statuses.  As you may know, I grew up on 7 1/2 acres in a typical 60s/70s style brick ranch.  We lived modestly, but well.  I remember coveting Gloria Vanderbilt jeans and Izods, but I didn't get them unless I saved up egg or babysitting money, or later, Kings Island (I was an usherette for the shows throughout high school) money.  However, I also didn't want for any necessities.  We had plenty of food, a house that was warm in the winter and cool in the summer (well, we didn't have air conditioning until later), and the clothes I needed (Mom went through a Stretch & Sew phase).  I could participate in activities and clubs, we had animals/pets, and we splurged sometimes with trips to Bonanza Steakhouse every now and then. I had friends who were much wealthier, with big, suburban (I always thought of suburbanites as richer) houses (a couple even had pools) and Izods in every color, and friends who had much less, even one with an outhouse and no indoor plumbing. I was in the middle, but I didn't think about it very often. I did have the perception that those who lived in some neighborhoods had more money, though, and those that lived in others, didn't.

     The friend with the outhouse lived about a mile down the road from us in a trailer.  I remember her name, but won't mention it here. I have fond memories of that friend.  We rode the school bus together with a bus driver who let us sing songs.  I went over to her trailer often. I felt like the outhouse was a novelty, not a nuisance, and she and I played for hours on end.  She had a great imagination, so we were never left without something to pretend.  We wove elaborate stories to act out, played with her dogs, and explored her property.  Eventually, she moved away, and there was no way to keep in touch.  I do wonder what became of her...

     There was another boy I remember who was notorious for having lice constantly, and would have to miss school often; I know he was ostracized.  Looking back on that, I realize how terrible that must have been for him.  Kids talked about him being poor.  Years later, when my own children and I got a bad case of lice, it dawned on me how expensive it is to get rid of it!  The bottles of special treatment, the endless loads of hot wash, the giant garbage bags that sealed away stuffed animals and pillows, the time we needed to take off work (good thing we had careers with built in sick and personal days), etc.  We had the ability to read about how to get rid of lice, to be able to spend the time and money to tackle it, etc.  Families who didn't have all those resources, just couldn't get rid of it.

     The chasm that separates socioeconomic statuses is getting wider.  The beauty of this book is that it shows we are still connected (and thankfully, Chloe's mother knew it).  We all have dreams.  We all have hopes.  We all have hardships. If we only took the time to really see and understand each other.  If the Chloes of the world could open their hearts and see a beautiful, majestic horse standing before them...  The Adrians could be heard.  And it wouldn't matter from which side of the tracks they came.