mother's day and the lace dress

When I was about 9 or 10, I remember going shopping with my mother. We were visiting relatives in NJ and taking advantage of their "real" shopping mall. At one of the big department stores, I fell in love with a dress--layers of white lace, frothy and full. To me it was the dress of a dream, more luxurious and fine than anything in real life. I asked my mother if we could get it. She looked at the price tag and her face shadowed. My  heart sank and I I knew she was going to say no. It was too expensive, too frivolous, too unnecessary. But, before a word left her lips she looked and me and hesitated. And then, to my great surprise, she nodded and said yes.

I wore that dress to a school concert, where I sang in the choir. They had chose nine students to stand in the front of the stage to sing and I was one of them. I sang right in the center and as I sang, I saw an older woman nudge her partner and nod towards me. My heart sank. I probably looked weird.  What was I, this Asian girl a million years away from a fairy-tale princess, doing wearing a dress like this?

But when the song finished and we walked down the aisle of the auditorium, the woman caught my eye and said, "You look lovely! Your dress is beautiful!"

Then, a warm heat filled me--embarrassment but also happiness. For that one moment, in that dress, I could let myself believe I was really pretty--a rare feat for any preteen, but an especially difficult one for me, who had always felt my Asian features precluded me from the adjective. (Also from that moment on, lace dresses were forever seen with affection, no matter how unstylish or ridiculed they were. Both my wedding dresses were lace.)

I've been thinking about that memory a lot recently.  I asked my mom what made her change mind; and she doesn't even remember buying the dress. And, to be honest, I don't even remember thanking her for it. But, somehow, maybe because it's Mother's Day and I have a girl of my own, the memory of that lace dress means more to me than ever. To me, it symbolizes a moment where I could see how my mom loved me. Not because she bought me something, but because I saw clearly how she went against her first impulse. She set aside her instinctive, immigrant frugality because she wanted to make me happy. And she did.

Thanks, Mom! Happy Mother's Day!

the problem with celebrating Tikki Tikki Tembo

So,  Bookselling this Week, a newsletter for the American Booksellers Association includes a letter from author Jacqueline Davies regarding the inclusion of Tikki Tikki Tembo as a nominee for their "Picture Book Hall of Fame" and also linked to a post of my own from 2012. 

While no one asked me to share my concerns with the members of the ABA, I wish they had. If they had, I would have said this:

Dear ABA Booksellers,

Hello! There’s a good chance you are sick of the topic that I am about to broach, that you are rolling your eyeballs and you are secretly thinking, “Who cares?”  And in many ways, I don’t blame you.

But the truth is, I care. I care a lot.*

Because, I know you have heard from friends, colleagues and other authors and have gotten all the links. I know they have all given you calm, rational reasons in an unbiased manner. But I thought it might be good to hear from me, an Asian-American who truly cares about this from the core of her identity.

I was thrilled when I learned that my book When the Sea Turned to Silver was nominated this year for an E.B. White Read-Aloud award. However, when I saw that Tikki Tikki Tembo was a nominee for the Hall of Fame, I was dismayed for all the reasons you probably already know: the book is not an authentic folktale as it claims and, by using an untrue tradition and made-up/incorrect words, it creates false Chinese culture.**

Am I being too sensitive? Possibly. The refrain I hear often is, “My friend is Chinese, and she loved the book! It’s not offensive!”  We all know that what one person finds heartbreaking, another can find hilarious. I would never expect anyone's reading experience to mirror my own.

So, I do not believe the book should banned. I do not believe people should stop selling it. But, I also do not believe the book should be celebrated. By voting Tikki Tikki Tembo into the Hall of Fame, it sends a message that this book is one to revere and emulate. 

We are all in this business because we love books. At every conference I go to, someone somewhere will say, “These books save lives!”  However, if we allow ourselves the satisfaction that the books we share can help, we must also realize that books can also harm.  And the harm that a book like this can create is not only individual. It’s not just the Asian girl cringing because all her classmates are chanting fake Chinese at her or the boy with the last name of Chang teased for being “nothing.” No, the bigger harm in celebrating a book such as this is that it reinforces the idea that another person’s culture, my culture, is valued so little that we don’t even need to bother to get it right. 

And that is why I care. I hope you do, too.

Thank you so much for your consideration.

Best,

Grace Lin

*For those of you interested, I invite you to watch my TEDx talk:

**Those of you who know my books might say, “Hey, Grace Lin, aren’t you being a bit of hypocrite? Aren’t your books a mishmash of Chinese folktales, as well?”  While there is some validity to that, I would say that it is because of the books I do that I have such an emotional reaction to Tikki Tikki Tembo's flaws. My books are Asian-inspired fantasies. I’ve heavily researched them so that, to my knowledge, they are all based in Chinese folklore. And with them, I try to create something new--like growing from a seed. I try to grow the myths to fit with our culture--to create something I see as Asian-American. 

Tikki Tikki Tembo, to me, does the opposite. It took a non-Chinese story and pretended that it was old and authentic, added bogus traditions and words; and, in doing so, misrepresents Chinese culture.

To me, there is difference.

house of dreams

So, we have lived in our new house for almost four years now and it has been an adjustment. The biggest one has been adjusting my own romantic expectations. One of my favorite books is Anne's House of Dreams, in which Anne lives in charming house near the sea. 

While I knew it was unlikely that I would have a gorgeous seaside house, I've always kind of wished for something beautiful--either a grey stone cottage with centuries of character or a glass modern home that lit like a lantern in the night. A house that you could imagine lived with stories and full of "scopes for imagination."

Of course, that's not exactly what we ended up with. Don't get me wrong, I like our house. It was a good choice--solidly built,  good location--all the things we needed to check off on our real estate list. But during that first year, I felt a small sense of disappointment. It was a nice house, but not my house of dreams.

But, as more time has passed, the disappointment has faded and transformed.   Perhaps it is kind of suburb-ian, perhaps it does lacks that storybook charm or any kind of grandness that would impress visitors...but it is our house! A house that we are paying for with income that I make from books! That is truly a dream.

And, as we add more of our own quirky touches (that would never fit with a castle by the sea) and make our own memories here, I'm starting to realize that while this might not be my house of dreams,  it is something even better--a home.  

to my fellow Asian-American writers

Yesterday, I gave a keynote lecture at Primary Source's Global Perspectives & Diversity in Children's Literature program and I said some things during the Q&A that I feel like I should clarify as they were kind of "off the cuff" and, honestly, verbal communication is not my strong point (that's why I'm a writer!).

During the talk I brought up the CCBC Multicultural Statistics and how:

• 174 books were by authors and/or illustrators of Asian/Pacific heritage 

• 130 of these had no visible Asian/Pacific or Asian/Pacific American content

To paraphrase, that means most Asian-American authors are not writing characters that look like them.

This saddens me because these authors are undoubtably gifted and with their gift they have an opportunity to share an experience that has mostly been invisible. Sometimes, when I see an Asian-American author writing a non-Asian character, I'll read their blog interviews and inevitably the author says they wrote their character non-Asian because "that is what felt right."

And to this, I wonder. Perhaps they are not imagining an Asian character because of their experiences. In most of the stories around us, from the news to movies and to books, the characters are non-Asian. In general, authors have grown up loving books, and those books very likely never featured a character that was Asian. In fact, we are, in many ways, predisposed to feel like books should feature white characters. Maybe the character is coming to them as non-Asian simply because we are used to characters being that way.

That, said, I do NOT think that Asian authors should have to write only Asian characters.  The glory of being a writer is the ability to create any world, any character with words. I would never ask anyone to limit that based on their race.

So, my fellow, Asian-American authors, this is what I've been trying to say: Write whatever you want, whatever feels right. But I do ask that before you create your character, consider taking a few moments to think. Are you making this character non-Asian truly because that is what feels "right" or because that is what feels familiar?

 Only you can answer that. But, no matter what, I look forward to meeting whomever you create.

the maintenance year

travelers on our own journey!

So, this is the time of year when publishing world is all abuzz with their national conferences and award ceremonies--none of which I will be attending. As I read my friends' and colleagues' facebook feeds and twitter streams, I do feel slight twinges of envy. However, the emotion I feel in spades is anxiety. I wonder if somehow my work, my books, are being forgotten, left behind--that all I have tried to build is fading away.

But truly, my biggest fear is not that I've been unable to promote or network. My biggest fear is that I will never be able to do my best work again. For creating a book--at least for me-- is a very selfish  endeavor. It needs great chunks of alone time--thinking time, goofing time, as well as writing time.  It also needs very focused brain power.  All of which has been in short supply since Rain Dragon's arrival. Which is why my plans for novel #3 have remained just that--plans. No drafts, no outlines, no sketches.  My ambitions have been forced to take a backseat as the most I could manage this past year was keeping afloat!

I read somewhere that working moms should shift their attitude towards their careers for the year (s?) after their baby's birth. Instead of trying to achieve ambitious promotions, they should, instead, look at this time as "maintenance."

Even though I know I would've cringed at those words last year, I now embrace them.  It's much more comforting to chalk up this past year to maintenance instead of facing the possibility that I've peaked. 

 And if it was a maintenance year, then that also gives me the power  to decide that it's is over. We're now moved into the new house, I've hired a babysitter to help out and the studio is almost in a working state. Hope springs eternal, and hopefully this spring (er, summer) I can start everything anew. Cross your fingers for me!

moving

goodbye, bookshelves!

So, I spent Mother's Day moving. We've been moving in stages, but this was our last and final move. One of the reasons we've moved so slowly is because I've had a hard time letting go. From Robert to renovations,  there are a lot of memories and emotions about the apartment that go beyond mere homeownership for me.

But just like before, I've found solace in the quote "You only lose what you cling to." By choosing to leave the apartment, I don't lose the memories, but I do let go of the past. Which makes room for the future.

And I realize how apropos it that it was Mother's Day that I left this apartment behind. Because it's Rain Dragon that initiated our move. It's so we can give her the home we want, to be the family and mother I want us to be. Because I'm not just moving, I'm moving forward.

thinking on things

Recently, the pursuit of filthy lucre has been on my mind.

Perhaps it's because of my decision to have an original art trunk sale.  Even though I am starting to feel stressed as I watch my expenses rise as my income (due to limited work time) lowers, I also feel guilty and confused about how to price my art.  People are weird about art--what is expensive to one person is a bargain to another. What I consider deeply discounted, others might think is still too much. And, if I discount the art too much will it devalue it? In art school, I remember vividly teachers telling students never to sell their art or skill cheaply. "If you don't value your own art, how do you expect others to?" they said.

But, what I want most is that the art ends up with people who love it, regardless of how much they paid. In a way, I'd almost rather just give it away--especially after I watched this Ted Talk by Amanda Palmer:



But I'm not sure how it would work. So, I guess right now, unless something better comes to mind,  I'll stick with the trunk sale and just try to muddle through (by the way, there's still time to sign up to be on the trunk sale list; I'm aiming for the first batch of art to go on sale the first week in April).

on my desk monday

At night, when the baby is sleeping and packing is too noisy, I've been experimenting with my Star Baby book idea. I remember an editor telling me once a long time ago that every time and illustrator has a baby he/she changes his/her art style. I'm not sure if that's completely true--I don't know if I want a permanent change--but I do understand the sentiment because I've been playing around with some new art styles, trying to see if anything sticks. This one is a return to watercolor, which I haven't done since college:

We'll see where it goes!

perspective

So the big library awards were announced on Monday and my book did not receive one. Of course, I wasn't expecting one but I admit after hearing some very respectable people favoring it, I did nurture some hopes.

However, even though the award was not meant to be, it's been heartwarming to hear from individuals who thought the book was worthy. If anything it reminds me that my pact as an author is with the reader. I promise to create my absolute best for the readers of my book, not for a committee and not for an award. And the winning books are wonderful...heck, I probably would've chosen them over mine as well.

This year, while the winners were being called and announced I was at a doctor's appointment for Rain Dragon and she had to get her vaccination shots. I hate when she has to get shots, I've had to hold her while the nurse pricks her and she looks at me with wails of betrayal.  I feel awful;  the last time she got her shot I had to close my eyes and not watch.

But on Monday, for the very first time she didn't cry. When the nurse poked her with the needle, she tensed up, screwed up her face but didn't cry. She just sucked her fingers and looked at me as if to say, "Now, can we go home?"

I wouldn't be human if I didn't admit I was a little disappointed about the awards, but if Rain Dragon can be that brave, I think her mama can take some lumps too.

Congrats to all the winners!!

13 resolutions for 2013

Every year I make resolutions (or as my friends the BRG prefer to call them "goals"). Sometimes I achieve them (donating my hair, finishing my novel), other times not so much.  Last year, with Rain Dragon on the way, my only goal was to have a healthy and happy baby (which I am so grateful  came true!).  But this year, I'm going back to the resolution tradition, though I like to pretend that I don't have to start until Chinese New Year (Feb 10th, Year of the Snake!).

1. Loosen up. With upcoming school visits and work demands, I need to be able to let Rain Dragon be cared for by others. Truthfully, this might be harder on me than on her. But the goal is to spend time away from the baby without guilt and be confident that she'll be fine. This will be my biggest challenge this year.

2. Eat healthier. More salad! I've been indulging my sweet tooth a bit too much recently...

3.  Move to the new house with as little stress as possible. Because who needs more stress? To try to achieve this goal, we are moving slowly...which may or may not help.

4. Let go. Selling the condo is fraught with emotion for me, as well as declutter-ing that is a part of moving. I have to remind myself constantly that these items are not my memories and that getting rid of things does not mean I love any less.

5. Donate. Time, unfortunately, is limited these days and I can't do the charity I've done in the past. So, instead I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone and purge my flat files as well as do a good deed. I want to donate a big chunk of my art to someplace like the Kerlan or the Dodd Center as well as smaller organizations that could use it well.

6. Decorate. I want to decorate the living room, studio and baby's room in a way that I love. I've decided to leave the other rooms for next year, I figured I should keep these goals achievable!

7. Sew. I want to finally get over my fear of the sewing machine and sew curtains and babyclothes--get over my fear of the sewing machine and finally get to use the fabrics I've been stockpiling for years.

8. Write. I want (and need) to nail down a plot (and hopefully a draft) of my new (and perhaps final) novel. I have all these nebulous ideas floating around but nothing concrete--time to start making things solid.

9. Illustrate.  Strangely, I now think of myself more as an author than an illustrator these days. In some ways, I think my illustration growth has stagnated because I've been stretching  and focusing so much on writing. I'd like to get back to my illustration roots a bit  and growing in that direction, focusing on...

10. New books. Baby books or a new picturebook--more ideas (Star Baby wants to be born!) that need to be nailed down and brought to fruition.

11. Branch out.  With Rain Dragon around, I've had to start cutting down on school visits which is painful on the pocketbook. Babies= increased expenses + decreased income = not a good combo! So I've been trying to think of ways to make extra income without having to leave home. Right now the two ideas I have are offering portraits (though I need to see how well the winners' portraits come out first) or making & selling Chinese flashcards, but I'm not sure if either are going to be financially feasible...

12. Connect. All these goals are well and good, but people--baby, husband, family and, yes, readers!--must have a place, too. I want to make sure for all my personal goals in which I focus inward, I also spend time outward.

13. Remember. Every year has its low points and I know this year will have its share. When that happens, and even when it doesn't, I want remember how lucky I am. Life is a wonderful thing--sweet and sour--and I want to make sure I live it --a sentiment that I now realize, in hindsight, is partially inspired by the words of  Maurice Sendak:

cherish

Like everyone else, I've been extremely sad about the school shooting in CT. It's touched me deeper than other tragic new stories of late not only because I am such a new mom but also because  I am(or was) scheduled to visit Sandy Hook school--that same school-- in May. It was planned for the whole school to be reading my book in March. I am so heartbroken to think of the little hands that will never touch any books again.

 Recently, I've been so worried about how to juggle things--work, the new house, moving, the baby. It's been stressful and sometimes I have found myself scratching my head, trying to figure out how I got myself into all of this. But when I hear about events like this or remember Robert, I realize how lucky I am-- how honored I am-- to have all these complications and how much I have to cherish.

multitasking

After NYC, the booklaunch and the online book party, there was still work to do! Wonderful readers from all over had ordered books from Porter Square Books, so Rain Dragon and I (with good friend Libby) returned to sign them. All 110 of them.

Needless to say, after the first 50, Rain Dragon got a little antsy in the stroller and I was soon signing with her in my lap. I was absolutely thrilled to be signing the books and so grateful to everyone who ordered, but it was a tricky juggling act.

I realize that this is symbolic of my life from now on. As I look ahead to the new house, new events and new books (hopefully), I can already see the complications. When I wrote Starry River of the Sky, it was a consuming process and it was purposefully so. I wanted to create a book to the best of my ability, dedicating all my time, focus and passion into it.

I don't know if I can do that now, yet, I worry that the quality of my work will suffer as a result. I've gotten used to focusing on one project at a time. But, I guess I will just have to learn to multitask.

And, of course, I wouldn't want it any other way...but would welcome any tips or suggestions on how!

throwing my own party: why and is it worth it?

So, after my rather elaborate book parties--the Porter Square and the online one--last week, fellow authors tend to ask me two questions. Why do I do them? Is it worth it?

Well, a million years ago, I read online at the old Fuse#8 blog about an incredible book party that the publisher threw for the last Lemony Snicket book and there were two things I took away from it.

First, I was kind of jealous. Why didn't any of my publishers every throw me even a quarter of a party like that?

But it was about that time that I had begun to accept and find peace with Robert's illness. I began to realize that anger and resentment at not just  his illness, but most things was simply wasted time and energy (which,  consequently, is the theme of Starry River of the Sky).  I realized, if I really wanted a party for my books I should do something other than stew in jealousy.  So, then and there, I decided I'd stop whining and just throw my own fabulous book parties.

Second, in response to that post at the Fuse#8 blog, one of the commenters criticized the extravagance and "waste of money" of the party, to which I remember (but can't find) she or someone responded about how all parties  can be seen as  a waste of money. The point of a party was to celebrate. The point of a book party is to celebrate the book with perhaps some promotional benefits--not the other way around.

 So, I probably lose money at my book parties. The magnets and chopsticks I had made for my Ling and Ting booklaunch most likely cost more than my royalty per book. The time spent made a hundred pocket pacys for my Dumpling Days launch probably put me at below minimum wage. This time around my awesome publisher (thanks, Little, Brown!) sprung for the glow-in-the-dark stickers and posters, but if they hadn't I would've paid for it myself.  But it doesn't matter.

Because these parties are also my way of thanking readers as well as celebrating the book.  Booksales are like receiving presents at a birthday--I love them, but I wouldn't measure the success of the party by them. At my book party, I get to meet readers of my books, readers who want to read my next book! That is FUN. That is something to celebrate.

And it is definitely worth a party.

on the way to the grocery store

Interesting question to ponder...

mantra

from etsy

My friend Libby, over at the Blue Rose Girls blog, recently asked what quote you have over your desk to inspire your work. This made me pause because I haven't been at my desk in a while. Ever since Rain Dragon has arrived, the studio has been abandoned. While I know this is temporary, it does make me nervous. With Starry River of the Sky coming out in the fall, I worry that I won't be able to give it the promotional attention it needs to make it successful. And on an even greater scale, I worry that taking all this time off makes me fall behind somehow, that  what I've worked to build career-wise will now deteriorate.

But whenever I get too anxious, I try to remind myself that all the little things that I am doing-- from burping the baby to changing diapers-- are the pebbles that are building my family and are just as important as giving a speech a hundred people. These are the moments that make life.  And during an existence which finite, this is the time, this life is what is most important.

Of course, that is not easy to remember-- especially at 3 in the morning with a fussy baby! So, I do have a quote that inspires me but it's not above my desk. I play it on repeat in my head whenever I feel restless. I tell myself Live your Life.  Live your life.  Live your Life.

And so I try, with poopie diapers and all.

Rethinking Tikki Tikki Tembo

Once, I visited a school where the kids put on a play of  Tikki Tikki Tembo, in my honor. The kids were absolutely great, the teachers were quite lovely and the play was really well done. They had all worked hard on it and  I was very grateful for the warm welcome the school gave me, yet deep down I felt a strange awkwardness that I couldn't put my finger on.

So, when a friend of mine, recently sent me this blog post written by Irene Rideout, a lightbulb went on. When I read it, I suddenly thought, Oh that's why I felt weird!

With Irene's permission, I've republished her blog post here (her blog is private) for people to read. I think it's good food for thought:

Rethinking Tikki Tikki Tembo
by Irene Rideout

As a child, did you love Tikki Tikki Tembo by Arlene Mosel? Did you find the absurdly long name "Tikki Tikki Tembo-no Sa Rembo-chari Bari Ruchi-pip Peri Pembo" intoxicatingly fun to chant or sing? First published in 1968, the book has won some honors:

• In 1968, it won the Boston Globe - Horn Book Award for Picture Books. (http://us.macmillan.com/tikkitikkitembo/ArleneMosel) 

• In 1997, the New York Times named it "one of the 50 best books in the last 50 years." (http://www.schoollibraryjournal.com/article/CA6634456.html?desc=topstory) 

• In 2007, the book was #53 on the National Education Association's Teachers' Top 100 Books for Children. (http://www.nea.org/grants/13154.htm) 

• The Fall 2009 Audio Book version was Parents' Choice Approved by the Parents' Choice Foundation. (http://www.parents-choice.org/product.cfm?product_id=26879&StepNum=1&award=aw)

When I overheard my half-Chinese/half-Caucasian 6-year-old daughter singing the name a couple months ago, I had to ask her where she learned it. "In music class, at school," she replied. And to tell you the truth, I felt uneasy.

My first encounter with Tikki Tikki Tembo occurred around middle school. A Chinese-American friend was talking about the way other kids chanted "Tikki Tikki Tembo" around her. I had never heard those words before, so I asked her, "What does that mean?" The quiet seriousness of her response struck me. She looked me in the eye and said, "It's racist."

This is how the story is summarized on Amazon.com:
"In this beautiful edition--complete with line and wash illustrations by artist Blair Lent--Arlene Mosel retells an old Chinese folktale about how the people of China came to give their children short names after traditionally giving their "first and honored" sons grand, long names. Tikki tikki tembo (which means "the most wonderful thing in the whole wide world") and his brother Chang (which means "little or nothing") get into trouble with a well, are saved by the Old Man with the Ladder, and change history while they're at it." (http://www.amazon.com/Tikki-Tembo-Arlene-Mosel/dp/0312367481/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1332508100&sr=8-1)
The Multiculturalist, a publication by Northern Illinois University, warns that, contrary to common misconception, not all children's books about other cultures are authentic.(http://www.niu.edu/mct/newsletter/2009-2010/vol3_num1.pdf) On page 4, the article states:
"Teachers who want to share other cultures may unintentionally choose books that are racist or not representative of a particular group... A book that is often recommended (see Huck, Hepler, & Hickman, 1987) is Tikki Tikki Tembo (Mosel, 1968)... The text and illustrations, however, are inaccurate depictions of any Chinese... The message about Chinese names is less than flattering."

I do think the use of the word "unintentional" is important. I hold my daughter's school system in very high regard, and from the beginning, I had to assume that the teachers and administration - not a single person of color among them! - simply did not know about the racist perceptions of this popular tale. I mulled over the idea of calling up the school principal and just letting him know that the story isn't exactly culturally sensitive. But I admit, part of me thought, "Maybe another Asian parent will do it." It wasn't until I found out that the entire school would be acting out the story and performing the song "Tikki Tikki Tembo" at a school meeting that I finally realized, "No one else is going to speak up."

So, in a phone call with the principal, I explained why the story is racist.

• The book purports to be an "old Chinese folktale," but it is not. It is actually thought to be based on a Japanese folktale called Jugemu. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jugemu) Presumably, that tale was picked up and retold by Westerners, who mistakenly attributed it to China and added to the story. The result is a story that is neither Japanese nor Chinese, and it exemplifies the racist attitude of, "Chinese, Japanese, what's the difference, they're all the same." 

• Though the book's illustrations are beautifully drawn by Caldecott Medal-winning artist Blair Lent, they do not authentically depict Chinese people, as noted by The Multiculturalist above. Tikki Tikki Tembo's shoes are actually strikingly similar to traditional Japanese geta footwear, again reinforcing the inaccurate perception that all Asian cultures are the same.

• Tikki Tikki Tembo's full name does not include any actual Chinese words, and it perpetuates the stereotype that Chinese words and names sound like nonsensical syllables. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tikki_Tikki_Tembo) If anyone doubts that this stereotype continues to persist in modern society, look no further than the 2011 racist rant by a UCLA student. 

• Tikki Tikki Tembo's little brother does have a Chinese name, Chang, which, according to the book, means "little or nothing." The book was written in 1968, well before pinyin was standardized, but even if we generously consider all tones of "chang" and "zhang," none of the dozens of possible translations even come close to meaning "little" or "nothing." 

• According to the story, Chinese people traditionally gave their first-born sons long and honorable names. This is not true. I tried to find a source to back up this point, but apparently there isn't really a good way to find evidence of what a culture is not. This Wikipedia article, at least, provides information on Chinese names, modern and historical, and makes no mention of first-born sons ever getting especially long names.

When I read online forums and discussions about the potentially offensive nature of Tikki Tikki Tembo, I am disappointed because so frequently the responses are dismissive. People say, "Oh, lighten up, it's just a fun story for kids." There is, of course, a difference between INTENT and IMPACT. I feel pretty confident in surmising that the author and illustrator of Tikki Tikki Tembo did not set out to offend anyone. In fact, the INTENT may even have been to honor the Chinese culture by sharing a charming story of their understanding of China. But the IMPACT is that an entire culture is misrepresented, and it is not unreasonable that people within the misrepresented culture might feel offended. It's understandable that some people may have happy and fond childhood memories of this book, but their positive experiences with this book does not make other people's negative experiences any less valid.

Another common argument in defense of Tikki Tikki Tembo is, "Children know the difference between truth and fiction. They know this is not a real story of actual Chinese culture." Perhaps some do, but what if the book is actually presented by a teacher or librarian as an authentic Chinese folktale describing Chinese culture? Weston Woods, a production arm ofScholastic, a children's book publisher that specifically creates educational materials for schools, provides a lesson plan for use with their Tikki Tikki Tembo video. Two explicit objectives of the lesson are to "learn about Chinese culture" and "enjoy a well-known Chinese folktale." (http://westonwoods.scholastic.com/products/westonwoods/study_guides/tikki_tikki_tembo.pdf) Of course, in reading this particular book - or watching a video based on the book - the class will do neither.

In 1968, when cultural diversity wasn't yet the major issue it is today, any book that featured a foreign culture was probably welcomed, even if only for its novelty factor. But now that it's 2012, and the children's sections of our libraries are filled with authentic books about other cultures, there is no longer any need to rely on inauthentic tales like Tikki Tikki Tembo as an example of Chinese culture. I am a big fan of Grace Lin, who writes children's books of all levels ranging from picture books to chapter books. Her books are set in America, but they feature a Chinese-American family and plenty of Chinese and Taiwanese culture. For a book set in "old China," I recommend Ruby's Wish by Shirin Yim, a book my daughter actually discovered herself in the school library.

So what did my daughter's school principal say and do in response to my concerns? (My on-the-spot explanations were not quite as organized as my post here, but I think I got the ideas across!) I was so pleased and relieved to hear him say, "I had never thought about the book that way before, but now that you explain it to me, of course I understand." He repeatedly stressed his desire to be culturally sensitive, and he suggested a compromise for the school's upcoming performance of Tikki Tikki Tembo. (I knew the school had been practicing the show for months, and it was too late to do anything drastic like cancel the performance or choose a new story and song.) Rather than introduce it as "a Chinese folktale," they would simply call it "a story" and avoid any references to China or Chinese culture. I thought that was a great idea.

Moving forward, seeing how popular Tikki Tikki Tembo is in schools and with parents, I think it's unrealistic to expect everyone to simply remove it from their bookshelves. My hope is that if people do continue to pass on the story of Tikki Tikki Tembo, they do it in a responsible way.

• One option is to use the story to bring back oral storytelling, and to leave out all references of China and Chinese culture. Without using the actual book at all, parents and teachers can tell the tale of Tikki Tikki Tembo, simply setting it in "a far away land." The younger brother can have a name that does not strongly evoke any particular foreign culture, and it can be comparable to the syllables in Tikki Tikki Tembo's name. Perhaps something like Pip.

 

• Another option is to use the book as a teaching opportunity. Parents and teachers can enjoy the book and its illustrations, but follow it up with a discussion about how not all books are true stories, and not all pictures are true representations of what they are trying to depict. Inaccuracies in the story and pictures can be explicitly pointed out, and the book can be followed by a reading of another book that does authentically portray Chinese culture.

For another person's insights, I recommend this article. It gives what I think is a fair and balanced review of the book, and then it discusses the appropriateness of the book in today's diverse society. It goes even further by suggesting other books about names, and Asian names in particular, that can be used to supplement a reading of Tikki Tikki Tembo.