"And Tango Makes Three" tops challenged literature list!

I may be behind the times a bit, since the book was released in 2005 but, speaking of behind the times...Oh, good lord...

And it appears that some of his followers are at it again.

This year, the top book with the most complaints made to the American Library Association are for a children's book titled "And Tango Makes Three" released in 2005 and written by Justin Richardson and Peter Parnell and illustrated by Henry Cole.

The children's story is abased on the true story of Roy and Silo, two males Chinstrap Penguins living in Central Park Zoo in New York City. The two were observed caring for a rock that resembled an egg. When zookeepers realized what the couple was up to, they gave them the second egg of a mixed-sex penguin couple who had been previously been unable to hatch two eggs from one delivery. Turns out, Roy and Silo successfully nursed the young egg and brought a female chick into the world named "Tango" by zookeeper. The three, naturally, were kept together as a family. And so, then came a book that follows the lives of the three penguins'. The message, of course, that it's ok to have a "non-traditional" family.

I don't have children and therefore, cannot imagine the kind of awareness parent's must have when determining what their children are exposed to and the appropriate time for exposure (if at all) so I cannot speak from the position of a parent. I can, however, speak from the position of a child with same-sex parents who did not have access to literature that included depictions of non-traditional families, such as my own.

It wasn't until 2003 that I ran across a book titled "Heather Has Two Mommies". Published in 1989 by Leslea Newman and Illustrated by Diana Souza, the children's book released by Alyson Publications (of course) features Heather and her two moms: Mama Jane and Mama Kate. The book, like "And Tango Makes Three" was one of the most challenged books of the 1990s, having repeatedly been accused of pushing a militant, political agenda. In an Afterword published in the 10th anniversary edition in 2000, Leslea Newman says, "My goal in writing the book was, simply, to tell a story."

A story that resonates with thousands of children and adults who raise children in same-sex headed families or that are raised by, friend with, live next door to, have family members or friends that are same-sex families with children. Since I can only speak from the place in which I live, here in Portland, most of us are not hiding our sexuality or our family structures away. In this little progressive mecca of liberalism, we can be out with our families and visible without much fear. That is not to say that we still don't experience discrimination or hate crimes because I have certainly experienced them myself, we just have it a little easier here.

But there are other families in rural and suburban areas that still lack the access to the resources that we have here in the metro area. There is a severe lack of community organizations that cater to the needs of children, particularly, involved in the LGBTQ (Lesbian, Gay, Bi, Trans, Queer/Questioning) community. For a brief stint I was involved with COLAGE (Children of Lesbians and Gays Everywhere) and although I no am involved, I still get phone calls from all over the US from people seeking resources for their families and children.

I bring this up because there are not community functions for "Families Like Mine" (a book published by Abigail Garner) in places where, in order for safety, families remain closeted. Sometimes, the only resource, or the only way for a child or a family to know they are not alone is through media, alone. That is why it is so important that books like this exist.

In the final passage of her afterward, Leslea Newman writes, "All children, including children of lesbian and gay parents, will only benefit as more books on the subject of diversity get published... In the words of two such (grown) children, Stefan Lynch and Emily Omerek, codirectors of COLAGE in a letter dated January 1994 and written to Ten Percent magazine: 'Those of us raised in alternative families, especially lesbian and gay families, have grown up feeling invisible without knowing why. As the next generation grows up, they'll have resources like Newman's book in which they can see themselves reflected and therefore validated.'"

Whole heartedly agreed...

Side note - here is a brief list of other top-ten books which were/are often "challenged" with a formal or written complaint through the American Library Association (in no particular order):

"I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" - Maya Angelou
"The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" - Mark Twain
"The Golden Compass" - Philip Pullman
The Harry Potter Series – JK Rowling
"Of Mice and Men" – John Steinbeck
"Forever" – Judy Blume

And here is a link to the ALA's website for challenged literature.
Check it out: http://www.ala.org/ala/oif/bannedbooksweek/bbwlinks/challengesinitiator.cfm

Presence and the illusion of time...

Blather is what it's been called. The incessant rattling of thoughts that walk with me in a day. The voice that rarely takes reprieve during my journey. I'm a pensive fuck, it's true - contemplating the past and the future all at once - knowing that a part of me thrives that internal dialogs and neglects the now. Maybe it's requrged spiritual blather. I am 211 pages deep in A New Earth (by Eckhart Tolle); me and half a million other soccer moms, housewives, and stay-at-home dads across the US (thanks Oprah). It's a good read. Illuminates some things I already know in my core - what you give, you receive, ego thrives ..Time is an illusion, etc., etc. Thankfully, the content of the read has me at peace but also in a state of contemplation and careful consideration of how I live each day and what is in my life at this very moment. I am trying to keep my head out of the future, which is difficult, and out of the past, which is very easy. But my body keeps doing these strange emotional convulsions, in moments where I feel at complete peace. Its not a medical condition, no, it's as if my mind is working on something and I am not paying attention to it, but my body is responding. I just can't seem to put my mind on what is actually happening inside me.

I usually am in motion when it occurs. Public buses, walks, trains, even roller skates. I've been looking around a lot lately - taking inventory of what brings me happiness, you know, ridiculously cliche' things such as budding flowers, babies (the uncrying kind), sunny days, strangers laughing and smiling, and kind gestures. Then all the sudden I feel my diaphragm start to twitch, my eyes start welling up and I want to just start crying, or rather, sobbing wherever I am. But I don't. I mean, how weird is it to be riding a the public bus in the morning, sitting next to someone who seems perfectly composed one moment then all the sudden they start bawling?

No. I'm not pregnant damn it.
No. It's not that time of the month either.
C'mon now.

I really want to indulge and let this emotion come spewing out, but it just doesn't happen at home or at 'appropriate' time or place. It happens when I am at work or on the way to school or running errands or walking around campus between classes. So what do I do? Close my eyes, focus on the biology thats working its way through my body, holding my breath is key then slowly allowing myself to breathe methodically until it passes. And you know, it often comes up again in just a few moments.

I feel like a teapot. (Don't start singing I'm a little teapot just yet). I am completely unaware of what this liquid content inside me is - yet its boiling to escape and apparently, I am completely unaware that the burner is on so, when that emotional liquid starts to burp up through its only escape route I quickly allow some air in to calm it back down - then take it off the burner.

So this may come across as completely self-centered and I want you to know in advance that I am aware of it and attempting to make sense out of it. I feel as if this has been a year of listening. I am inpatient by nature - and it is something I am working on so when the people I care about need a sounding board for anything, I try really hard to shut my damn mouth, be present and listen. Not interject, stay aware if I redirect the conversation to my own experience, remain nonjudgmental and let my loves take their own path - not offer suggestions. I think I am pretty good at this. But in the interim of my listening year, I feel as if I have not had attempt to get to know whats going on in my core. Maybe thats my ego seeking attention - or maybe its a deeper need to connect with someone on a soulful level. The problem with this statement is that I am close with many people who I have soulful connections with but it feels as if everyone is in such transition at this moment in time, that no one has the capacity to mentally and emotionally explore the depth of another because, well, their own teapot is full and spouting.

And this motion that is causing me so much emotion? I think part of it is evident. I am in a process of evolution, relocation, and reacquaintance. There is a lot at stake right now - for a lot of people in my life for whom I care deeply, including myself. Time, that illusionary essence, seems to be nagging at me. "I'm running out!" it screams at me, every moment I spend trying to stabilize something (finances for example) outside of my soulful relationships. I know time and distance cannot dissolve those relationships - but I am fearful of my relocation to Idaho. Terrified that I cannot be myself there, that I will be 'closeted' for fear of my safety, that I will not have community, that i will experience isolation for a prolonged period. And I know myself well enough to know that I will make friends, build community and get over the sad period of feeling isolated. I know that.

That bubbling emotion that comes up seems to be a lack of outlet for a lot of things that are happening in my life right now and on my mind. This isn't a plea for someone to come running with an open ear to my rescue, but a regurged means of putting my feelings to words - in an attempt to make sense of it. That is exactly what those deep conversations that I am lacking, help accomplish. Its an opportunity to make sense of it all through the use of words.And you know me and my words...