Caddie Woodlawn and reading with a critical lens

Should we throw out children's books that now seem flawed or keep reading them?

Recently, I read the Newbery Medal-winning book, CADDIE WOODLAWN by Carol Ryrie Brink. I read it as a child, but had no memories of it that stuck with me, and I picked it up this year because I lead the 5th grade book club in my daughter’s class and this was the current unit’s pick.

Almost immediately, this book began to rub me wrong.

But when it comes to books, I’m not one to throw the baby out with the bathwater. I am against banning books— as a reader, a writer, and a student of library studies. A lot of people love this book, and again, it won a Newbery in 1936, among other awards. Yes, there were some charming stories of life in Wisconsin around the time of the Civil War, some fun frontier adventures, some glimpses of a simpler (but not easier) life.

But some of the language and family choices just kept pricking me, like a tiny rock in my shoe. I kept reading (or rather in this case, listening), and by the end I did feel some connection and tenderness toward some of the family members, and sure, it is neat to think that the author wrote it based on her own grandmother’s childhood.

Overall, Caddie is a likeable character; she’s brave, kind, and thoughtful. I didn’t like Caddie’s mother much at all, based on a variety of choices she made. And it would be one thing if Caddie’s “tomboy" shenanigans were just described for fun, but framing her experiences as being part of her father’s “experiment” of letting her alone out of his daughters run wild with the boys, gave off strange vibes for me. (I really did love the father character; I just wish he’d been more consistent in his parenting— why not let all the girls run wild when they were young?) But these characters were based on real people, and real people don’t always make the best choices; we all know that.

The language though is in places problematic, and quite simply, racist, when it comes to its description of Native Americans. I realize this book is a product of its time, and based on real people who had real fears that were sometimes unfounded but could lead to dangerous consequences, as Caddie comes to learn in the book.

I love how in a very timely episode of one of my favorite podcasts, Currently Reading, hosts Meredith and Kaytee discussed how important it is to label our reviews of “cringey backlist books,” as they put it, as such for context: This was written in 1935 and I read it in 2022. In terms of children’s books, they also talked about the importance of discussing these books with our kids. I couldn’t agree more.

My 10-year old daughter wasn’t a fan of this book. That was primarily due to taste (she is a bit of a hard-to-please reader in general), but one day she simply said to me: “It’s sad how they keep calling the Indians savages.”

And honestly, that right there is why I think it’s valid to keep reading books like this. We were then able to have an authentic conversation about why that was sad to her and how people should be treated. In book club, we had a similar discussion about how many of the characters treated the neighboring Native people, and how it wasn’t right. Having discussions like this with kids are vital, and honestly, problematic books give us good fodder to discuss.

Books like CADDIE WOODLAWN shouldn’t be read in a vacuum, but not every child has the opportunity to read in a book club setting. I personally think that publishers would do well to include a note or an introduction in classic children’s books featuring flawed language, which might prompt the reader, even a young reader, to adjust her lenses to read critically. I don’t mean critical in its primary definition (inclined to criticize severely or unfavorably), but instead: exercising or involving critical judgement or judicious evaluation (Merriam-Webster).

The fact that my daughter and her friends were able to evaluate the behavior of some of the characters in CADDIE WOODLAWN and discern that it wasn’t appropriate gives me hope. If children are ingesting a lot of varied literature from a diverse pool of authors, contexts, and time in history, and dialoguing about it with trusted adults, I think they will develop the skills of recognizing the faults and mistakes of literary characters.

As I was reading this book, I kept coming back to another book I read recently, STEEPED IN STORIES: Timeless Children’s Novels to Refresh our Tired Souls by Mitali Perkins. Mitali writes extensively about how we can read and enjoy classic books which have flaws. Here’s just one quote:

“The fact that all stories are imperfect means we must equip young people to read critically. In the midst of the fiery debate, I propose adults who are committed to educating this generation— parents, grandparents, teachers, librarians, writers, and others— find common ground by agreeing on one key premise: crossing as many borders as possible in childhood, which includes engaging with a wide range of people and stories, is vital in developing discernment.”

If this topic interests you, I highly recommend Mitali’s book. It’s written primarily in regards to adults rereading children’s books, but I think it’s also very relevant if you are a writer of books for kids, or are someone who recommends/chooses books for kids.

I’d love to hear your thoughts!

xo,

Nicole

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