46 / gw magazine / Spring 2016
Very Hungry Caterpillar and inspired Penguin <strong>to</strong> make the edition available in retail s<strong>to</strong>res. Alison Morris’ office resembles what a library might look like after an earthquake. Every couple of feet a new stack of books sprouts from the floor. The middle row of a blond wood shelf has collapsed under the weight of colorful volumes. And yet, it doesn’t feel chaotic. That might be because Ms. Morris herself is neat and organized in her thinking, and has a tidy catalog of children’s books built in her head. She’s read almost every text in the room. As the senior direc<strong>to</strong>r of First Book’s collection development and merchandising team, Ms. Morris is the person who scours through journals and publisher catalogs. Her goal is <strong>to</strong> expand the Marketplace with materials that speak <strong>to</strong> the children First Book serves. Questionnaires and surveys of First Book’s network have helped paint a picture of those children. Forty-five percent of respondents report that the kids they serve face homelessness. Eighty-three percent say their students come from single-parent homes. Thirty-two percent say their kids encounter community or gang violence. Fifty-four percent report that the kids they serve have incarcerated parents or siblings. Ms. Morris thinks about these things constantly when she’s introducing new titles <strong>to</strong> the Marketplace. She goes <strong>to</strong> a bookshelf outside her office and comes back with a copy of Jacqueline Woodson’s Visiting Day. The picture book follows a young girl excited about reuniting with her father, who is in prison. The s<strong>to</strong>ry doesn’t dwell on why he’s incarcerated. <strong>In</strong>stead, it focuses on the child’s relationship with her dad and the strength of their bond. Another one of her favorite new books is K.A. Holt’s House Arrest. The novel, written in verse, describes a young boy’s year on probation after he uses a s<strong>to</strong>len credit card <strong>to</strong> help his family. “I don’t think books are intended only for a certain kind of kid,” she says. “Any kid can read this and it will help them develop empathy and help them ponder their sense of right and wrong.” But when these books go in<strong>to</strong> the hands of kids living these experiences, she says, they become personal. The idea has continued <strong>to</strong> drive the organization’s S<strong>to</strong>ries for All Project. Last year, the Walt Disney Co. helped First Book distribute more than 270,000 culturally relevant David J. Johns (<strong>to</strong>p) reads <strong>to</strong> a roomful of kids before asking them <strong>to</strong> list what they would accomplish as president (bot<strong>to</strong>m). books <strong>to</strong> the Latino community. First Book also worked with HarperCollins <strong>to</strong> release an English and Spanish bilingual edition of Goodnight Moon. More recently, working with Target, Jet- Blue and KPMG, First Book brought <strong>to</strong> its Marketplace 60,000 copies of six more books with diverse characters or plots. Two of those titles are from authors and illustra<strong>to</strong>rs new <strong>to</strong> the children’s picture book world: Boats for Papa, Jessixa Bagley’s s<strong>to</strong>ry about dealing with the loss of a parent, and Emmanuel’s Dream, Laurie Ann Thompson’s true account of disabled cyclist Emmanuel Ofosu Yeboah. Four were existing titles made available in exclusive paperback editions, including And Tango Makes Three about a same-sex family, and Niño Wrestles the World about a little lucha libre fighter. <strong>In</strong> February, the White House, First Book, the New York Public Library, publishers and other libraries launched an effort <strong>to</strong> provide access <strong>to</strong> $250 million worth of e-books for free <strong>to</strong> children from low-income families. And this spring, the Library of Congress recognized First Book with its $150,000 David M. Rubenstein Prize, part of the library’s annual Literacy Awards. Still, lofty goals remain. Ms. Zimmer says the market-driven strategies for the S<strong>to</strong>ries for All Project will continue <strong>to</strong> evolve, and that First Book is expanding its presence in Canada and the United States, aiming <strong>to</strong> reach “every educa<strong>to</strong>r who needs us and every child who needs us.” First Book also has small pilot projects in 19 countries <strong>to</strong> figure out how it can scale its distribution internationally. On a Monday morning in February, lopsided lines of elementary school kids file in<strong>to</strong> the Department of Education’s audi<strong>to</strong>rium. It isn’t the sterile government building room you might imagine; the lighting is bright and the carpets are colorful and playful. There’s music. The floor is decked out with a couple of football-shaped beanbag chairs that the kids race <strong>to</strong>ward excitedly. Five inner-city D.C. schools have been invited here for a Black His<strong>to</strong>ry Month celebration hosted by First Book and the White House <strong>In</strong>itiative on Educational Excellence for African Americans. The White House initiative has planned a couple of empowerment activities for the kids, and then First Book will give every child a hardcover copy of the anthology Our White House: Looking <strong>In</strong>, Looking Out. A room full of kids spanning grades three through six might sound like a recipe for chaos. Yet the students are surprisingly quiet and attentive. They sit cross-legged watching little screens blaring videos of YouTube sensation Kid President. The initiative’s executive direc<strong>to</strong>r, David J. Johns, takes the mic and kicks off the action. He’s tall and enthusiastic, comfortable talking <strong>to</strong> elementary school-aged kids. He’s been a teacher before, and he’s been spearheading educational excellence for African American students since former Education Secretary Arne Duncan put him in charge of the initiative in 2013. He pulls out a copy of Catherine Stier’s If I Were the President and begins reading it out loud. The book follows a multicultural cast of kids imagining what it would be like <strong>to</strong> lead the country. “If I were president,” Mr. Johns reads, “I’d travel in my own limousine or my private airplane, Air Force One.” He looks up at the crowd of students, and they’re hooked. He decides <strong>to</strong> intersperse the s<strong>to</strong>ry with some trivia. “Do you guys want <strong>to</strong> know what the code name is for the president’s car?” Mr. Johns asks. Heads bob up and down in unison. “The Beast,” he whispers, letting everyone in on the secret. Two boys exchange wideeyed looks and one repeats the name: “The Beast!” When Mr. Johns gets <strong>to</strong> the last page of the book, he breaks the kids in<strong>to</strong> groups and gives them an assignment <strong>to</strong> come up with a list of what they would accomplish as president. Students gather around large sheets of paper <strong>to</strong> brains<strong>to</strong>rm ideas that range from “treat everyone equal” <strong>to</strong> “make college free.” After every group presents its platform, First Book’s staff begins lining up the kids in front of a massive table where their free books are waiting. One by one, Our White House: Looking <strong>In</strong>, Looking Out gets placed in<strong>to</strong> every pair of small hands. Some of the kids are so little they have <strong>to</strong> hug the weighty, 250-page hardcover with both arms. A few teachers linger in the audi<strong>to</strong>rium, asking their classes <strong>to</strong> pose for pictures. Clusters of students hold up their White House books before a constellation of flashing iPhone cameras. They grin up in<strong>to</strong> the lenses, showing smiles with missing baby teeth. The phones come down, and a couple kids peel away from the crowd. One child plops down in the middle of the floor and lurches the book on<strong>to</strong> his lap. He begins thumbing through it slowly, looking at illustrations of George Washing<strong>to</strong>n and Abraham Lincoln. He lands on a picture of the White House. After a day like <strong>to</strong>day, where he’s spent all day thinking about what he would do as president, he might be picturing himself in that house. Next <strong>to</strong> him, a couple of other children have also s<strong>to</strong>pped <strong>to</strong> look inside the book. The room has grown quiet—just a few voices and the sound of pages turning. gwmagazine.com / 47
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