Book Report

Remember book reports in school?

I loved them in grade school;
we got to create a cover,
using paint, crayons, colored pencils, whatever!!

Later it was just boring!
Just let me read the book and enjoy myself!
Please!
The summer before high school I was given "summer reading".
Sounds innocent enough.
Procrastinating being my forte' (still is),
I waited until the last two weeks
before beginning:
Jane Eyre, David Copperfield,
and The Mayor of Casterbridge.

Whoooo, that was cutting it close.
The heavy tomes sat brooding, a portent,
like far away thunder and lightening.
A storm was coming...

Giving it a try (I do love to read!),
I found these worlds to be dark and frightening:
Winds, sleet, and horizontal rain were the norm
...how original!

Never ending, unfamiliar vocabulary!
Reading was rough going.
Tiny text filled great, long pages
with enough chicken scratch
to drown me in confusion.

I knew there were stories in between the covers,
but comprehension abandoned me.
Then the dreaded studying...(that can ruin a good read!)

Outlines, analysis, explications,
diagramed characters and plot.
Who knew people did this...
why not lie in the hammock,
with a root beer float, have a good read and RELAX!
It's summer, don't blow it!

I Now read for pleasure, no more tomes,
no more analysis to ruin a good time.
A while back I suddenly wanted to write a book report.
The descriptive words flowed naturally:

THE LITTLE WORLD
by John Richardson

Once on OPRAH I'd heard a guest (white) state
that if we white people say we're not prejudiced,
then we ARE; and we're in denial.
I was worried. Did she mean me?

Lately I've been reading about dwarfism,
fiction and nonfiction.
Richardson's book forced me to
rethink my feelings and opinions about the little world.
I am an average sized woman
with a baby niece with achondroplasia.
For years, even before she was born,
I had been fascinated by dwarfism,
so I welcomed her with a soaring heart.
I felt special, chosen, to be family to this little person.

I saw IN THE LITTLE WORLD as another book that could increase awareness and it did, but not as I'd expected. The words are sometimes brutally honest, sometimes irritating, but always moving and informative.

Just as many authors have done with fictional accounts,
average sized people can use dwarfs'
sometimes traumatic experiences
as metaphors for their own personal anguish.
The author bares his soul,

striving to understand.
Sometimes he struggles.
For his own benefit he slips into
patronizing.
"They're different, and they're so brave!",
we say, "Just like me!"

Our attitude is the disability!
This is stereotyping and discriminatory thinking,
not to mention egoism!

Well, Richardson's reporting caught me in the act.
Dwarfs are people.
Why should they be arbitrarily elevated onto a pedestal
or be dropped into the depths of pity for simply living their lives?
Stop brazen condescension cloaked as caring!
The little people spoke so honestly through this account.
John Richardson was open to challenging his staid ideas,
telling an often difficult story.

P.S.
Do not call little people midgets...
For many years it has been used as derogatory.
...this is a car, not a person!
And Do Not stare.
Not nice.













Good Music:
The Best of the Blue Note Years
Michel Petrucciani

Good reading:
fiction:
Stones From the River
Ursula Hegi

nonfiction:
In Our Hearts We Were Giants
Yehuda Koren and Eliat Negev

Within Reach
Billy Barty
by Michael and Debra Copeland

Good Movies:
Simon Birch

The Station Agent