MANY PRACTITIONERS AND PUNDITS caution sternly against didacticism in books for children, a stance I find puzzling. Why write for young readers if you don't feel you have something of value to convey to them? Its true, however, that the stories children cherish most elevate story and character over preaching. Four new books address topics relevant to our current age of anxiety: bullying, the constant stream of bad news from the media, the need for kindness and acceptance. These books attempt to avoid the preachiness pitfall by relying on images. The title and jacket art for "Julian Is a Mermaid" prefigure a seemingly predictable story about identity and acceptance. But along the way, surprises and delights exemplify the unexpected inevitability of the best storytelling. In the introductory spread, Julian, who seems about 6, is swimming with several abuelas all wearing bathing caps and fond, watchful gazes. Then we see Julian and his abuela on the subway, where the other passengers include three splendid mermaids. Are they figments of Julian's imagination? The text gives no hint: "This is a boy named Julian," we read. "And this is his abuela. And those are some mermaids." On closer examination the mermaids have feet, and wear sandals. Three wordless spreads follow, in which Julian imagines frolicking in the ocean with dreamlike sea creatures. Once home, Julian uses household items (a curtain, ferns from a planter) to garb himself as a mermaid. When his abuela catches him, she turns her back, only to return with a gift. This is Jessica Love's debut picture book, and every choice she makes - the spare text, a color palette both muted and lively, full-bleed pages that make even subway cars and apartment rooms feel as expansive as the ocean - imbues the story with charm, tenderness and humor. In the joyous conclusion, the pair make their way to a mermaid parade (an annual event at Coney Island in Brooklyn) and join the spectacle. The final illustration shows the abuelas from the first spread, transformed into mermaids. Alongside Julian, readers learn that anyone can be a mermaid: All it takes is love and acceptance, a little imagination and a big swishy tail. "I Walk With Vanessa," by the husbandand-wife team Kerascoet ("Malala's Magic Pencil"), is not merely sparse in its text, it's wordless. On the title page, we see Vanessa and her family moving in to their new home. Then spreads set at school show her new-kid anxiety and loneliness, which take an ugly turn when she is bullied. A girl who witnesses the bullying (the "I" of the book's title) decides to walk Vanessa to school the next day. They are joined by a few friends, then more, and eventually a whole crowd, until it is the bully who is left out. Young readers will enjoy searching for the bully, whose red-andwhite striped shirt is surely a wink at Martin Handford's Waldo. Brown-skinned Vanessa, her tan friend and the white bully are all big-headed moppets drawn with loose lines and plenty of personality. The abundance of white space and use of color keeps the focus on the characters; it also sets up a stunning nighttime spread of the girls depicted through their respective bedroom windows. I immediately thought of Maya Angelou's words that "we are all more alike ... than we are unalike" - a stirring example of how an image can both reflect and extend the individual reader's experience. The book has a subtitle ("A Story About a Simple Act of Kindness"), as well as two sections of back matter about bullying, directed at young readers and their adults. That makes it seem as though the visuals alone weren't trusted to carry the mesBOTH "THE BREAKING NEWS" and "Be Kind" lean more heavily on words. In "The Breaking News," Sarah Lynne Reul's timely text begins with a young girl's reminiscence: "I remember when we heard the bad news." Next we see dark-skinned Mom and Dad staring in alarm at the words "breaking news" on the television. The news is unspecified. The girl looks worriedly at her parents, capturing the story's essence with efficiency and poignancy. The girl's emotions are sensitively portrayed throughout. At first enthusiastic about trying to make those around her feel better, she grows discouraged when her attempts fail. "Maybe there is nothing I can do to help in a big way. I feel small." There are mildly jarring bumps in the text: an abrupt switch from recollection to present tense, and a confusing line that appears to be from the girl's consciousness when it should rightly be attributed to her teacher. By contrast, the heavily outlined images are steady and solid, including the closing spreads of the girl and her family planting flowers, which circle back to a scene at the beginning, affirming the resilience that can result when small acts are focused on community. The wordiest of the four books also skirts closest to the didactic edge. "Be Kind" begins when curly-headed Tanisha becomes an obj ect of derision after spilling her grape juice at school. The narrator, a dark-haired child with pale skin, flounders in an effort to comfort her, then wonders, "What does it mean to be kind anyway?" The narrator imagines possibilities, from baking cookies for a lonely neighbor to "telling Desmond I like his blue boots," then muses: "Sticking up for someone when other kids aren't kind is really hard. (And really scary.)" Tanisha and Kerascoet's Vanessa are both depicted as dark-complected, with lighter-skinned children befriending them. White-savior narratives? Or examples of the dominant culture taking responsibility for dismantling racism? The distinction is one ripe for discussion. "Be Kind" concludes with the child's hope that a small act of kindness toward Tanisha might "spill out of our school" and expand to encircle the world. The vignettes portraying "the world" include references to familiar architecture (pyramids, the Taj Mahal, pagodas), presumably to assist in identifying location; also, alas, with the potential to reinforce stereotypes. Even so, the combination of Pat Zietlow Miller's earnest text and Jen Hill's attractive images is likely to find a receptive audience among adults wanting to spark a conversation with children. These days, it seems more important than ever for books to show young people how to act with thoughtfulness, civility and kindness - growing up as they are amid powerful adults who consistently fail to do so. ? LINDA SUE PARK, a Newbety Medalist, is the author, most recently, of "Beast of Stone," the final installment of the Wing & Claw fantasy trilogy. |