Do You Ask Why I’m Sighing, My Son?*
As this is posted, it would have been Fred Rogers’ 97th birthday. As it happens, it is also Lois Lowry’s birthday. Both have received numerous awards, tributes, and other accolades for their work reaching out to young people. They’ve got different histories, used different media, and so on. But they have one interesting thing in common: a willingness to address difficult topics with children.
Children see the world differently, but they notice things. They have questions about it all, too (e.g. Why do people die? Why are some people poor and some people not?). And they are aware, from a young age, of things like bigotry and economic injustice. Work like Rogers’ and Lowry’s respects young people enough to address these tough topics. After all, children know what’s going on around them even if they can’t put a name to what they see. And they sense when adults aren’t being honest with them. We see that in the overwhelmingly positive response to Rogers’ and Lowry’s work. Children want honest answers.
We certainly see this in crime fiction. For example, in Agatha Christie’s The Hollow (AKA Murder After Hours), we are introduced to Harley Street specialist Dr. John Christow, his wife, Gerda, and their two children, Terry and Zena. One weekend, the adult Christows are invited to spend the weekend at the country home of Sir Henry and Lady Lucy Angkatell. As part of the activities, Lady Lucy has arranged a luncheon to which she’s invited Hercule Poirot, who has taken a nearby cottage. When he arrives, he is shown outdoors where John Christow’s body is lying by the swimming pool. Near him is someone holding the murder weapon – presumably the killer. It looks like an easy case – Poirot even thinks it’s a macabre joke at first – but it’s not. One of the difficult tasks for Gerda will be to explain the murder to the children. It’s hard, though. Here’s what she has to say about it:
‘And the children – they ask me questions and I can’t answer them properly. I don’t know what to say to Terry. He keeps saying, ‘Why was Father killed?’’
Christie didn’t really write for children, but she understood their need to know.
Belinda Bauer’s Blacklands is the story of twelve-year-old Stephen Lamb. He lives in Exmoor with his mother, his grandmother, and his brother. It’s not a particularly happy family, though, Years earlier, Stephen’s Uncle Billy went missing and was never found. It was always assumed that he was murdered by a man named Arnold Avery, who has murdered other children. No-one really talks about Uncle Billy, and neither Stephen’s mother nor his grandmother wants to discuss what happened or why it happened. But Stephen still wants answers. So, he decides to write to Avery, who is in prison on another charge, to try to find out more, including where Uncle Billy’s body is. Avery responds, and before long, the two are playing a sort of cat-and-mouse game that could turn very, very dangerous for Stephen.
One plot line of Babs Horton’s A Jarful of Angels takes place in late 1962 in an isolated Welsh village. The town is home to four children: Lawrence ‘Fatty’ Bevan, Elizabeth ‘Iffy’ Meredith, Elizabeth ‘Bessie’ Tranter, and William ‘Billy’ Edwards. They don’t have a lot in common, except that there aren’t many other young people in the village. So, they spend a lot of time together. As the story goes on, the children learn of some secrets that the town is hiding, and things that certain people want to keep hidden. Because the adults in their lives won’t explain things, the four young people make up their own explanations and try to make sense of what’s going on. Among other things, it’s a clear reminder that just because ‘we don’t talk about those things’ doesn’t mean children don’t think and wonder about them.
William Kent Krueger’s Ordinary Grace takes place in small-town Minnesota during the summer of 1961. For thirteen-year-old Frank Drum and his younger brother Jake, it’s a time to play baseball, go down to the river, and enjoy time away from school. Everything changes, though, when a boy that Frank and Jake knew is killed on a railroad track. Everyone says that it was a terrible accident, but perhaps it wasn’t so accidental. Then, there’s another death. Those things are hard enough, but the hardest is when there’s a death in the Drum family. As the boys try to make sense of everything, they face the grief you might expect and have all sorts of questions. And it’s interesting to see how the different adults in their lives answer (and don’t answer) those questions.
Fans of Alan Bradley’s Flavia de Luce series can tell you that Flavia is an unusual amateur sleuth. As the series begins, with The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, she’s eleven years old, living in an English village called Bishops Lacey. One night, her father gets a visit from a stranger and the two end up arguing. The next morning, that same man is found dead in the de Luce family’s garden. Flavia’s curious about the whole thing, not to mention a bit frightened by it all. Things get worse when her father is charged with the murder. Flavia knows her father is innocent, so she wants to clear his name, and starts asking questions. It’s hard to get answers, though, in part because almost none of the adults in her life will answer her honestly and with respect for her intelligence. The only adult who does is the family gardener/handyman, Dogger. It’s very frustrating for Flavia, but she uses her intelligence and her unique knowledge of poisons to find out the truth.
It’s easy to forget that children, especially young children, see and hear what happens in their lives. They notice things and want to make sense of them. And, when big things happen, like a major world event or a death, they want answers, and they want to understand what’s going on. It helps immensely when adults take their cues from people like Fred Rogers and Lois Lowry and answers those questions honestly.
*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Peter, Paul, and Mary’s Day is Done.