Teaching Guides for The Cedarville Shop & the Wheelbarrow Swap

We’re thrilled with the reception that Bridget Krone’s newest middle-grade novel, The Cedarville Shop and the Wheelbarrow Shop has been getting since it was released in South Africa! Not only is it great to see a local author being supported (nearly 100 people turned out for Bridget’s book launch!), it’s validating to see that people are hungry for stories that reflect their home, their lives, and their experiences. In 1990, educator Rudine Sims Bishop published her groundbreaking essay “Mirrors, Windows, and Sliding Glass Doors,” which spoke to the idea of books being a tool for empathy, understanding, and confidence:

Books are sometimes windows, offering views of worlds that may be real or imagined, familiar or strange. These windows are also sliding glass doors, and readers have only to walk through in imagination to become part of whatever world has been created and recreated by the author. When lighting conditions are just right, however, a window can also be a mirror. Literature transforms human experience and reflects it back to us, and in that reflection we can see our own lives and experiences as part of the larger human experience. Reading, then, becomes a means of self-affirmation, and readers often seek their mirrors in books.

That’s been something we’ve always looked toward in our children’s books, and Cedarville is another great addition. The novel, set in the small, impoverished village of Cedarville, centers on 12-year-old Boipelo Seku. When he reads an article about a Canadian man who, starting with a paperclip, makes trade-after-trade until he gets a house, Boi thinks that this might be a way to do the same for his own family. He hatches his own trading plan starting with a tiny clay cow he molded from river mud. Trade by trade, Boi and his best friend Potso discover that even though Cedarville lacks so many of the things that made the paperclip trade possible, it is fuller than either of them ever imagined.

Continue reading “Teaching Guides for The Cedarville Shop & the Wheelbarrow Swap”

Teaching Guides & Activities for Catalyst Books

Book-lovers are pretty great, aren’t they? But to create the next generation of readers, we have to start early. That’s why we’re so proud of our books for kids, young adults, and our crossover titles. We hope that one of these stories is just the spark to create a reader for life.

During these challenging times, we know that a lot of parents are now finding themselves in the role of teacher, and you may be using one of our books to supplement your curriculum. If that’s the case, first of all, thank you, and please let us know how you’re using our books. We’d love to hear from you!

If you’re interested in incorporating African history and stories into your child’s reading, we’re pleased to offer the following resources/activities. Please check back as we add new resources and roll out a dedicated page where you can access these, and future activities. We realize that education as we’ve known it has changed quite a bit in the last few weeks, and we not only want to be responsive to that, we want to provide as many resources as possible to guide us, not just through this moment, but in the future. Continue reading “Teaching Guides & Activities for Catalyst Books”

Help Us Bring the Next Chapter of Shaka’s Life to the Page

Happy New Year, everyone! It has been a really busy, really exciting 2017 for us here at Catalyst. We’ve done a lot of learning, growing, and building this year and we can’t wait to keep bringing that energy into 2018.

As the year begins, we find ourselves right in the middle of a Kickstarter campaign to bring the second volume of Shaka Rising to life, and we’d love your help. Check out our project to learn more about our plans, and while you’re there make sure to take a look at some of the fantastic rewards we’re offering to our donors. We’d love to be able to send you one of those. Also at our project page, Catalyst founder Jessica Powers has written a few words about her life and why this book, this project, and this press mean so much to her:

When I was growing up on the U.S.- Mexico border, there were no books that reflected the reality of my life. I read Laura Ingalls Wilder avidly, to the point where I grew my hair past my waist and only wore dresses. I wanted to be a pioneer girl. Anything was better than the desert town I lived in!

Then I discovered Anne of Green Gables, and all the companion books, and I desperately wished I was Canadian, and perhaps an orphan, growing up on the lush, mysterious, wild island of Prince Edward Island. (As an aside, I visited as an adult and was disappointed that it was basically farmland, with potatoes being the main crop.)

As a kid, I looked around at my neighborhood and it looked to me like nothing more than a dusty desert town of broken down trucks. I didn’t see the magic of migrant workers who passed our house, sometimes several times a day, following the power lines from Mexico to the chili fields of New Mexico. I didn’t understand the musicality that the lilting Spanish I heard every day was infusing into my language. I didn’t realize the way Mexican culture had surrounded and gentled the harsher white Anglo culture that gave birth to my parents.

As a young adult, I bumbled my way into understanding the beautiful gift I had been given: that, instead of the invisible privilege many white children of America are born into, I had grown up witnessing daily the cycle of death and rebirth that accompanies the immigrant experience, the grace that is embodied in failure and the willingness not to let that crush you but to get up and try again, and–not to romanticize anything–the emotional and physical violence that accompanies the harsh reality of poverty. The experiences of immigrant families weren’t abstract experiences. I saw it in my friends’ families and the families of boys I had crushes on and with people at church.

Perhaps even more pertinent, I grew up as a minority. I was a white child with parents from Iowa and South Dakota but almost everybody I knew was Mexican or Mexican-American. Everyday life meant reaching outside of my own home culture. It meant, too, that I was enveloped in another culture to such an extent that to this day it feels like home. And it meant that I’ve always been interested in the ways that race, culture, belief systems, and immigration impact nations and their histories.

Read more about Jessica’s (and Catalyst’s!) story over at our Kickstarter page.