Recently, I received an award. It was not for my books nor
for my writing and it was given, by all places, by my local cooperative & awesome grocery store, the River Valley Coop. But it was extremely important. Because this award was a grant
to help fund a project that I am as passionate about as any of my books.
Because I'm helping Rain Dragon's school (with the River Valley grant) build a Community Book Stop! It will be a free little library in the foyer of
the school that will feature diverse books.
But, there's more! To help conversations & build community, we’re adding gluing in a reading tip sheet in
the front of the book (ex: Don’t be afraid to bring up challenging topics) and
a blank booklet on the back so parents can record their thoughts and ideas. It's going to be great!
I can't wait for this project to get off the ground! Stay tuned for more....
When I was about 9 or 10, I remember going shopping with my mother. We were visiting relatives in NJ and taking advantage of their "real" shopping mall. At one of the big department stores, I fell in love with a dress--layers of white lace, frothy and full. To me it was the dress of a dream, more luxurious and fine than anything in real life. I asked my mother if we could get it. She looked at the price tag and her face shadowed. My heart sank and I I knew she was going to say no. It was too expensive, too frivolous, too unnecessary. But, before a word left her lips she looked and me and hesitated. And then, to my great surprise, she nodded and said yes.
I wore that dress to a school concert, where I sang in the choir. They had chose nine students to stand in the front of the stage to sing and I was one of them. I sang right in the center and as I sang, I saw an older woman nudge her partner and nod towards me. My heart sank. I probably looked weird. What was I, this Asian girl a million years away from a fairy-tale princess, doing wearing a dress like this?
But when the song finished and we walked down the aisle of the auditorium, the woman caught my eye and said, "You look lovely! Your dress is beautiful!"
Then, a warm heat filled me--embarrassment but also happiness. For that one moment, in that dress, I could let myself believe I was really pretty--a rare feat for any preteen, but an especially difficult one for me, who had always felt my Asian features precluded me from the adjective. (Also from that moment on, lace dresses were forever seen with affection, no matter how unstylish or ridiculed they were. Both my wedding dresses were lace.)
I've been thinking about that memory a lot recently. I asked my mom what made her change mind; and she doesn't even remember buying the dress. And, to be honest, I don't even remember thanking her for it. But, somehow, maybe because it's Mother's Day and I have a girl of my own, the memory of that lace dress means more to me than ever. To me, it symbolizes a moment where I could see how my mom loved me. Not because she bought me something, but because I saw clearly how she went against her first impulse. She set aside her instinctive, immigrant frugality because she wanted to make me happy. And she did.
While no one asked me to share my concerns with the members
of the ABA, I wish they had. If they had, I would have said this:
Dear ABA Booksellers,
Hello! There’s a good chance you are sick of the topic that
I am about to broach, that you are rolling your eyeballs and you are secretly
thinking, “Who cares?” And in many ways, I don’t blame you.
But the truth is, I care. I care a lot.*
Because, I know you have heard from friends, colleagues and
other authors and have gotten all the links.
I know they have all given you calm, rational reasons in an unbiased manner.
But I thought it might be good to hear from me, an Asian-American who truly
cares about this from the core of her identity.
I was thrilled when I learned that my book When the Sea Turned to Silver was
nominated this year for an E.B. White Read-Aloud award. However, when I saw
that Tikki Tikki Tembo was a nominee for the Hall of Fame, I was
dismayed for all the
reasons you probably already know: the book is not an authentic
folktale as it claims and, by using an untrue tradition and made-up/incorrect
words, it creates false Chinese culture.**
Am I being too sensitive? Possibly. The refrain I hear often
is, “My friend is Chinese, and she loved the book! It’s not offensive!”
We all know that what one person finds heartbreaking, another can find
hilarious. I would never expect anyone's reading experience to mirror my
own.
So, I do not believe the book should banned. I do not
believe people should stop selling it. But, I also do not believe the book
should be celebrated. By voting Tikki Tikki Tembo into the Hall of
Fame, it sends a message that this book is one to revere and emulate.
We are all in this business because we love books. At every
conference I go to, someone somewhere will say, “These books save lives!”
However, if we allow ourselves the satisfaction that the books we share can
help, we must also realize that books can also harm. And the harm that a
book like this can create is not only individual. It’s not just the Asian girl
cringing because all her classmates are chanting fake Chinese at her or the boy
with the last name of Chang teased for being “nothing.” No, the bigger harm in
celebrating a book such as this is that it reinforces the idea that another
person’s culture, my culture, is valued so little that we don’t even need
to bother to get it right.
And that is why I care. I hope you do, too.
Thank you so much for your consideration.
Best,
Grace Lin
*For those of you interested, I invite you to watch my TEDx
talk:
**Those of you who know my books might say, “Hey, Grace Lin,
aren’t you being a bit of hypocrite? Aren’t your books a mishmash of Chinese
folktales, as well?” While there is some validity to that, I
would say that it is because of the books I do that I have such
an emotional reaction to Tikki Tikki Tembo's flaws. My books are Asian-inspired
fantasies. I’ve heavily researched them so that, to my knowledge, they are all
based in Chinese folklore. And with them, I try to create something new--like
growing from a seed. I try to grow the myths to fit with our culture--to create
something I see as Asian-American.
Tikki Tikki Tembo, to me, does the opposite. It took a
non-Chinese story and pretended that it was old and authentic, added bogus
traditions and words; and, in doing so, misrepresents Chinese culture.
