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Issue 27 Autumn1999 Helen Cooper's 1999 Kate Greenaway Medal Speech Delivered on 14th July 1999 Helen Cooper >>>>>>>>>> Next Carnegie/Greenaway Item |
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I've made two big discoveries this week. First, I've discovered that I come from a long line of people who have educated themselves at their local library. My 84 year old granny, who I only met once when I was eleven, stayed with me having flown over from Australia. What she mainly talked about were books and libraries. She didn't have much formal education but, from an early age, borrowed books from the library, then walked the three miles home, reading all the way. She could only take one book out at a time, so she'd stay in the library as long as she could, reading a different book, and before she went home, she'd hide it behind "something boring looking" so it would still be there next week. She went on to have four kids of her own. By then she could take out four books for each person in the family. Twenty books a week. "And I read them all." She said. So it seems loitering in the library is in my blood. I have no formal art education myself, so I used the Children's Library at Carlisle very extensively. (They let me have 8 books out.) So you can imagine how thrilled I am to be standing here today for this award given by librarians - an award that recognises visual literacy, and it's most important ambassador, the picture book.
Which brings me to my second recent discovery. The "Baby-sitting box". Ever come across the Baby-sitting box? I've heard that some quick-thinking librarians have adopted the practice of leaving a box of picture books out for older readers to browse through. The Baby-sitting box allows older kids that might have reading difficulties, or even just like reading picture books, to save face. They can pretend they are borrowing a book for a session of babysitting. A great idea, but very sad that picture book reading has to be a secret vice beyond a certain age. Picture books need a reasonably simple text because they have to suit the developing vocabulary of a young child. But these same young children are very visually astute - often more so than adults. Most good picture books combine simple texts with sophisticated art - and as it just so happens that this medium is completely within the grasp of young kids. Then, just when these kids are becoming more comfortable with the written word, when they are really getting to grips with the all important interaction between text and pictures, they hear this: "You're too old for picture books now." Here's a medium that kids can interpret better than most grown ups suddenly dismissed as baby stuff. Is it any wonder that so many kids give up reading, when adults dismiss picture books as something best left behind in the nursery.
This practice seems particularly unfair, because picture books have the facility to appeal to all ages, as they can be read on so many different levels. The written word standing alone has a tougher time addressing such a wide age-range.
Of course when I'm working on a book, I have the under-7s firmly in mind. I want my books to be both accessible at first reading, and layered with goodies in the pictures, waiting to be discovered on repeated readings. And what other form of literature has to sustain so many repeated readings? I bet most kids know their favourite picture book far better than most teenagers know their G.C.S.E. books. What's more, the parents and carers are subject to dozens of repeated readings. Aren't they a vital part of the picture book audience?
And what about those that get caught in the crossfire? How about the big sister stealing a glance over dad's shoulder as he reads to little brother? How about the teenage babysitters, uncles, aunts, and grandparents, all taking their turn? In my house my little sister would pick on anyone who was foolish enough to sit down for a cup of tea - even the insurance man and the window cleaner.
Like a first rate family film, picture books can be high quality entertainment for all ages. And though they are educational, they're not just training wheels. They're visual poetry. An art form in their own right.

Before I go, I must thank all the people that have helped me with this book. Everyone in the Children's department at Transworld was involved in some way, but special thanks to my editor Annie Eaton, Ian Butterworth the designer and my husband Ted Dewan. Thank you Library Association for this. I'm honoured. But I won't be putting it on the mantel-piece ... not just yet.
Because, at 7.30 tonight, there is a meeting in the little library at the bottom of my street. Sadly, it's to discuss whether the library can be saved from closure. They're calling it a consultation so there is some hope. I thought maybe if I offered the library the thousand pounds worth of children's books that is part of the prize, whipped out my shiny new medal, and let them know just how crucial libraries have been to four generations of my family, it might get the meeting off to a good start. Maybe my one year old daughter, like generations before her, will have a local library to go to. Wish me luck!