Back to School: One for Laughs, One for Tears
August 3, 2023 Comments Off on Back to School: One for Laughs, One for Tears
Whether you’re (maniacally) laughing or (despondently) crying at the prospect of sending your kids back to school depends entirely on their ages—at least, in my experience. As my kids have gotten older and (a bit?) better at handling unstructured days—actually in need of unstructured time after nine months of homework—I’ve cherished our summers together more and more. There was a time when I couldn’t wait to drop off my kids for their first day of school and run home to an empty house. These days, I find myself poignantly aware that our years of summering together are running out, and my heart feels more heavy than light when September rolls around. (Full disclosure: my kids are currently at sleepaway camp for two weeks, so ask me later this month, after we’ve road-tripped home from Maine with three stops to visit with family, because I might be kicking them to the schoolyard.)
Whether back-to-school season feels like friend or foe, I can at least promise you some good prep reading. I’m focusing today on two especially unique releases, though I could easily have sung the praises of a variety of new titles (some of which I’ll feature on The Gram over the next few weeks and all of which are currently on display at Old Town Books), including Kaz Windness’s Bitsy Bat, School Star (for anyone who has ever felt boxed in by the “right” and “wrong” ways to do school, starring the cutest neurodivergent bat); Lucy Morris’ May’s Brave Day (a charming presentation of mustering courage on the first day of school and whose illustrations elicit classic feels); Becky Scharnhorst’s How to Get Your Octopus to School (if we’re going to fight about lunches and coats then we should at least get to laugh about it); Supriya Keller’s My Name (the newest in a line of important picture books about honoring classmates’ names); Liz Garton Scanlon’s The World’s Best Class Plant (guaranteed to help ease the disappoint when your kid learns that their classroom has neither pet rat nor pet rabbit); and, finally, Stephen Krensky’s I am Ready for School (the latest in a favorite board book series for wee ones starting preschool).
With today’s post, I’m choosing to focus on two completely different approaches to the back-to-school conversation. One is laugh-out-loud funny, because nothing cuts through the stress of change like humor, while the other is a somber, exquisite, and ultimately hopeful meditation on weathering the bittersweet loss of summer.
Mr. S
by Monica Arnaldo
Ages 4-8
Mark my words: until now, there hasn’t been a funnier back-to-school book since We Don’t Eat Our Classmates (which, incidentally, got a second sequel this year, because we can never have too much of Penelope Rex). Yes, if you’re hoping to send off your kids to school in the spirit of levity, get your hands on Monica Arnaldo’s Mr. S. It’s kooky, it’s unexpected, and it will leave your kids with more questions than answers—which, when we’re talking about academia, is a good thing!
It’s the first day of school, and the kids in room 2B at Baloney Elementary School are in for a bit of a head-scratcher. In the absence of a human adult at the front of the class, could their teacher perhaps be the “impressive-looking sandwich” sitting on the desk? The name on the chalkboard does say “Mr. S,” and might “S” stand for sandwich? When the ruler beside the sandwich clatters to the ground, quickly ending any thought that a sandwich for a teacher might mean a lack of discipline, the students decide to go with it.
Before long, the children begin devising sandwich-inspired lessons, from alphabet study (“C is for club sandwich! D is for double-decker!”) to music class (“Mary had a little ham, little ham, little ham…”), all without a word from the presumed Mr. S. Whether the kids are working independently or together, in concentration or frustration, their facial expressions are a highlight of Monica Arnaldo’s illustrations.
While spirits are generally high, the students continue to question whether things might be a bit off. Eventually, they begin arguing, first quietly, then loudly, until a man barges in through the door to set them straight—the same man, careful readers will observe, who since the story began has been seen outside the classroom window, engaged in an outlandish series of events. Then, just as we think we’ve cracked the code, our certainty is yanked away again, alongside more giggles. This is a sandwich intent on keeping us guessing!
Under the Blanket Sky
by Tim Fischer
Ages 3-7
Get those tissues ready. You aren’t likely to come across Tim Fischer’s Under the Blanket Sky on many back-to-school lists, but I can’t resist a non-traditional spin on a common trope, so hear me out. This picture book might not be set in school, but it is about the bittersweet passing of summer, concluding on the night before school starts, when first day jitters abound, delivering a subtle but powerful reminder that endings and beginnings can be fluid if we choose to see the possibilities in both. It also boasts some of the most ethereal artwork of the year, not to mention lyrical, goosebumps-inducing text that still leaves much to the imagination—two hallmarks of great picture books.
In first-person narration, a boy facing end-of-summer woes tell us of an unusual companion who brought magic to his summer, appearing one morning with “a brush of wind and flutter of sunlight,” a feathered, owl-like creature who “smelled like the sky” and had a curious smile. The boy shows his new friend all his favorite things to do, and the two spend their days enacting mock battles, making chalk drawings, and napping in the afternoon sun. The spreads, several of them wordless, are a twinkling but moody play of light and shadow.
At some point, when the boy wonders aloud whether “we can stay here together, always,” so “we can have even more tomorrows just like today,” his friend doesn’t have a response, though later he whispers to the boy that he loves him. And when one day the boy awakes to “daylight softened” and cooler temperatures, he intuitively understands that it’s time for his friend “to spread his great wings and return to the sky.”
Shortly after their parting, the boy lies in his bedroom, watching the moonlight make shadow pictures on his wall and contemplating the start of school the next morning. Somewhere “in between a memory and a dream” come thoughts of the summer almost behind him, that special time with his friend. There, he finds comfort in both the “hello and goodbye,” including a reference to the book’s title that I won’t ruin for you, but that is an apt sentiment for ourselves to embrace this month, as we prepare to venture forth into the unknown, drawing comfort from our assured capacity for love.
We may not always be able to hold on tight to those we love, just like we can’t make these summer days last as long as we want, but we’ll carry their magic inside us forever.
(See what I mean about the tissues?)
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Books published by HarperCollins and Random House, respectively. All opinions are my own. Links support the beautiful Old Town Books, where I am the children’s buyer (and yes, we ship!).
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