Friday. Rain. The NCSS conference. What a pleasure to meet all the dedicated social studies teachers at NCSS today. Perhaps the rain drove many of them into the exhibit hall, but by noon we were out of WE ARE ONE. Carolyn, my editor at Calkins Creek, shared a new review of the book (VOYA--December 2007) that was a great way to start the day. Then she and I spent the afternoon calling around to see if we could magically produce some copies for tomorrow. Alas, our efforts came up a bust. I guess tomorrow I'll be like a Wal-Mart greeter just saying "Howdy do" and pointing to the book's listing in the catalog.

I spent Thanksgiving bicycling around and through Tubac, Arizona. If you don't know Tubac, you really should. It's an artists' colony, and art abounds everywhere. When I first started coming to Southern Arizona ten years ago, or so, Tubac was a sleepy little village of working artists. It was a place where people interested in the various art media might talk to the folk who actually create the art. It was a place where struggling artists could find an affordable place to live and create and thrive. Unfortunately, it was discovered. Most of the struggling artists have been forced out. Affordable housing has been replaced by developments of $600K and $700K tract homes. Even so, it is a nice place to visit and look.

Now it is back to the grind for a few days before zipping off to San Diego for the NCSS conference. I'll be signing books there on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday...Lunch with my Writers' Group on Monday...And back to Tucson on Thursday.

I read an interesting blog review of We Are One yesterday. The blogger worried that it is a "sophisticated" book and that children might not understand the terms "black" and "Negro" when used interchangeably. To that I say give children credit for being intelligent beings that have the ability to think. They really can be a sophisticated audience if they're allowed to be. As an educator and writer, I'm tired of so called "experts" and others working to dumb down books because they worry that children won't be able to understand multi-syllabic words. She worried that older readers would be put off by the "picture book format." To that I say that it is a photo-essay and if she--I'm assuming the blogger was a she--still has reservations, she needs to sit in on my talk about using picture books with older readers. End of rant. End of discussion.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Perhaps I should go away on tour more often. I spent the last several days in Buffalo, New York, visiting the delightful students and dedicated faculty at Union East Elementary School. Colleen Goodwin, the Union East librarian extraordinaire, arranged for me to check my e-mail and there was a message from my publisher that WE ARE ONE: THE STORY OF BAYARD RUSTIN is nominated for the 2007 Cybils Award, an award bestowed by literary bloggers. The last time I left town, I discovered it was given a starred review by School Library Journal. Okay, I'm getting ready to continue the tour--this time to New York City and NCTE. Maybe another wonderful something will happen to the book while I'm away.

It was snowing in Buffalo when I landed. Colleen had promised me beautiful fall weather. I think she was as surprised as I about the snow and chilly temperatures. It was quite different from Tucson in the mid-80s. Still, it was pleasant and the company of Union East students and faculty, and SLAWNY members, helped to make it even more so. I'm looking forward to another trip to Buffalo in the spring.

November 2 (Friday) marked the Day of the Dead, so I went to Nogales, Sonora, Mexico, to see what it is all about. Mind you, I've read about Day of the Dead activities and mentally knew it was a festive celebration, but all the reading in the world couldn't have prepared me for the spectacle. At the Panteón Nacional (National Cemetary), El Dia de los Muertos (the Day of the Dead) is a rich, elaborate, colorful, multi-day happening--a sharp contrast to the somber, quiet, reflective cemetaries in the United States. El Dia de los Muertos is not a time for sadness, as the belief is that the spirits of departed loved ones return--so families bring offerings of food and beverage (those that were favorites of the departed) and spend their days and nights at the gravesite feasting and remembering. The gravesites are weeded, cleaned, and scrubbed. Then they are decorated with fresh and paper flowers, photographs, stuffed animals, toys, and trinkets. Bands play. Singers sing. Children play, scampering about the graves. At one end of the cemetary, a carnival is in full swing, while at another, a mercado (market) offers everything from "fast food" to rugs to bracelets depicting saints to fashion wear. Strolling vendors hawk their cotton candy and candied apples and pan de muerto (literally, "dead bread," but actually it is a slightly sweet bread prepared for this occasion). And everywhere one sees calacas, skeleton figures, doing everything the living do and reminding all that rich and poor, beautiful and plain, talented and untalented, ultimately share an equal fate. At market stalls, children select calaveras, sugar skulls, that are personalized with their names and gobbled up--a sweet, cementery (spanglish, for "cemetary") treat, and another reminder of human-kind's shared fate.