Rewriting More Than History
I went to Barnes & Noble last week to pick up some books for Aasim’s (and now mine I guess) niece and nephews. We were seeing them this past weekend and we wanted to give them something that didn’t just light up, recite one-liners, or karate chop. When Aasim’s brother and sister said to get their respective kids books, because they have plenty of toys, I sighed happily, prepared to make that trip to (one of at least) my favorite store. I love bookstores in general, and I know enjoying wholesale booksellers who are more concerned about turning a profit than actually championing authors and thinkers is kind of slimy, but you can’t blame me for wanting everything I need as far as books were concerned in one place?? Besides, I can curate my own experience in there. I know what I want, and I try to ignore the arrant commercialism…
And so, I made the two second trip up the road to my local B&N and bee-lined for the children’s section. I had specific titles for the older two of the four that I was purchasing for, so I left those for my way out of the section. I went to the ages 0–3 area, as the younger two were still in the thick of heavy cardboard books with cartoon cities and anthropomorphic families. One likes animals, the other vacuum cleaners… I found a big glossy picture book of all sorts of animals doing what they do, just look out at the humans staring at them with a blank sadness, and dug in trying to find something for the little guy with a vacuum obsession. Unable to find anything, naturally, I asked one of the clerks if she could locate something on the system. As she searched, I continued to search the shelves; suddenly aware that a young man, with no kids, unshaven and in flip-flops maybe gave pedo-alarms.
As I looked up and down the shelves, I was reminded of my own journey of reading. Books have been a part of who I am from a very young age. Being the son of a teacher, I was doing workbook activities and reading just as much, if not more, than I was playing with my trains. I learned to love reading so much so that it’s become a part of who I am as an adult. I genuinely enjoy digging into a new book and reading, it’s a pleasure, not a chore for me! Waiting on the information about whether someone had the savvy to write a book about children’s odd obsessions with appliances (this isn’t the first baby I’ve met who’s into vacuum cleaner, and my brother used to kiss the oven until one day he kissed the hot glass when it was on), I was flooded with memories as I saw some familiar titles, and I familiarized myself with some that definitely weren’t around when I was little — Feminist Baby? Um, yes to all of that!!
Another thing I noticed was that most of the books, adorned with illustrated covers, mostly depicted little boys, or girls in dresses. I suddenly remembered a video I caught on Facebook a while back of a father, holding his baby daughter, showed all the books he was read to as a child and split the stack into two — guess which gender was overwhelmingly represented… I wasn’t surprised by seeing this action, but I was sad. Sadder still, almost all of these round-faced little boys (and a few girls) were white. No wonder #OscarsSoWhite, we indoctrinate children through the books they read! Adding to the potential concern of me being a creep, I started snapping pictures of the books I saw. All the white people were joined by a lone person of color, a girl for that author’s credit, but the book was titled Night Night America. The girl on the cover was sporting an “I ❤ USA” pink pajama outfit along with her nondescript minority status. Token girl of color showing apparent patriotism, see, they respect ‘Murica!
Why couldn’t the book be about this little girl going to the grocery store with her mom, a story to teach kids about food or something like that? Why did it have to be a Goodnight Moon knock off with American jingoism splashed over it? I turned back to Feminist Baby, took another picture like a rapist and vowed that my kids would learn from books like this. Yes, there’s a cute little ball-headed white girl on the cover, but I’ll fill in the gaps in the social justice as I read it to my kids. I want to raise open-minded, woke, feminist girls and boys — and if that makes me a whiny cuck, then fine, you can just stay sleep!
Through this crisis of wokeness in the face of not-so-subtle subtle injustice, the B&N clerk came back to say that there are no books on vacuum cleaners or appliances in general. (Seriously guys, someone who can draw get with me on this one, we’ll make a whole series out of this!). I settled on a popular series called The Little Blue Truck. I didn’t open it and check the story out, I figured it would be a wholesome, white-washed, Westernized tale about how a little truck did some things and made some friends. I went to go grab the Goosebumps and Spirit Animals books our other nephews asked for. On the way there, I found the entire Shel Silverstein collection and thought back to my days in elementary school and falling in love with the simple poems. I almost bought Where The Sidewalk Ends, but decided against it once I remembered that 1) there are no kids in my house and 2) watching old Thomas the Tank Engine videos on YouTube cashed in my “act like a five-year-old” coupons until at least next year. When I got to the adolescent book section, I found something that infuriated me more than #ChildrensBooksSoWhite…
I didn’t know Rush Limbaugh wrote children’s books! So not only does he attempt to distort news and the very reality we live in on the radio, but he’s trying to rewrite history. The basis for the series I later found out is that his caricature of Paul Revere “Rush Revere” travels through time with his students to show them “what really happened” to make American history “fun”. Even now, I have a sardonic grin on my face and can’t help but shake my head and laugh. I guess that’s all the things I have to say about this series…
False, first, let’s just say that Rush Limbaugh is as good a source of learning for American children as I am a good Jedi. Girl, please! I didn’t read the books, nor will I, but I’m sure that Rush takes his child readers through the annals of American history in all it’s white-washed glory. The Pilgrims were friends with the Native Americans — I’m sorry — Indians. The Revolution was fought by brave men who wanted to deliver freedom to all, except women and people of color cuz they didn’t really want it. Civil War? More like the Second American Revolution where brave patriots fought for the cause of true liberty and won even though they lost, lost badly, like really badly, so much so that statues commemorating that loss are really sad attempt to hold on…150 years after. Yup, ‘Murica is great, just ask Rush! I won’t even get into how putting his face on a caricature of an American Revolutionary, Paul Revere (who himself isn’t even the best representation as he stole credit and fame from real revolutionaries because he was rich and connected, but then again, for Rush Limbaugh, maybe it’s a perfect fit), is disrespecting history by bending it to your fancy.
Exhausted, I made my purchases, and made an impulse grab of a self help book that’s going to teach me about self-discipline. Maybe I bought it because it was my way of trying to even out the scales of justice. Children’s books are poor representations of reality and society? Fine, teach yourself about “twenty-one ways to achieve lasting happiness and success”. Who knows, I may even be able to go into a children’s book section and not walk out with ogita and a headache! All the same, I’m going to teach my kids to stay all the way woke and avoid Rush Limbaugh and his ilk at all costs — life’s too short for that kind of fight.
Seriously, don’t endorse Rush Limbaugh with your money. If you’re reading this, then you probably don’t already, but save your wayward friends from his clutches! You can start with clapping for this piece!! :)
