Why I Still Love Laura Ingalls Wilder
I'm sure we've all heard about the Laura Ingalls Wilder's Award being renamed to the Children's Literature Legacy Award, but I am here to tell you why that is a mistake.
Surprisingly, books were not always my entire life. In early middle school, I didn't really consider myself a reader. I didn't dislike reading, but I felt like I was slow, so I never really picked up books for fun. Eventually, this changed, and I think that I have Little House on the Prairie to thank for this. I remember my mom handing my a thick, hard covered collection of the first Little House on the Prairie books. She told me that when she was little, she loved these books, and always wanting to please, I started reading despite the daunting size that a collection of novels can pose to a young reader. Of course I loved them. They were the first books that I really loved. The first books that made me want to read more. Every trip to the library, from then on, led me to the next Little House book.
What I remember from these cherished books are the details that brought this family to life, that interested me, that painted a true picture of what life would be like in the late 1800's. I remember laughing, and being slightly disturbed, when Laura described her favorite parts of the pig. I can't eat pork without thinking about how Laura loved the tail, crisped over the fire. Or how her favorite part of the pig was the bladder, which she blew up like a balloon and bounced across the grass with Mary. I think about eating vanity cakes on Laura's birthday. And how worried I was when Pa didn't show up for Christmas dinner, and he had to eat the oyster crackers to survive. I was a part of their little family. Every little memory that Laura remembered as an adult, I now remember, too.
Why do we want to erase her name when she made so many children into readers? Little House has now been accused of being racially insensitive. I will not claim that Laura herself never held any prejudice sentiments, but, given the time, it would be hard to find anyone who didn't. Laura occasionally expressed fear of the Natives that lived nearby. But again, in the time period along with the image painted by false stories of "savage Indians," this would be a fear that any settler on the prairie would have, and, I dare say, any Native American would have towards white settlers. Laura's writing portrayed what life was really like, and to deny this now is an insult to history. Honestly, one of the few moments in the books that I remember directly mentioning Native Americans was one that showed beauty. Laura, Mary, and their father went on a walk and stumbled upon the old site of an Indian settlement. On the ground, they found handmade beads scattered. I remember imagining how beautiful these beads, glittering in the dirt, must have been. The focus of these books was what life was like on the prairie, and, unfortunately, there was fear on the prairie, too. Should we erase everything that isn't perfect? We weren't perfect in 1870, and we aren't perfect now.
Surprisingly, books were not always my entire life. In early middle school, I didn't really consider myself a reader. I didn't dislike reading, but I felt like I was slow, so I never really picked up books for fun. Eventually, this changed, and I think that I have Little House on the Prairie to thank for this. I remember my mom handing my a thick, hard covered collection of the first Little House on the Prairie books. She told me that when she was little, she loved these books, and always wanting to please, I started reading despite the daunting size that a collection of novels can pose to a young reader. Of course I loved them. They were the first books that I really loved. The first books that made me want to read more. Every trip to the library, from then on, led me to the next Little House book.What I remember from these cherished books are the details that brought this family to life, that interested me, that painted a true picture of what life would be like in the late 1800's. I remember laughing, and being slightly disturbed, when Laura described her favorite parts of the pig. I can't eat pork without thinking about how Laura loved the tail, crisped over the fire. Or how her favorite part of the pig was the bladder, which she blew up like a balloon and bounced across the grass with Mary. I think about eating vanity cakes on Laura's birthday. And how worried I was when Pa didn't show up for Christmas dinner, and he had to eat the oyster crackers to survive. I was a part of their little family. Every little memory that Laura remembered as an adult, I now remember, too.
Why do we want to erase her name when she made so many children into readers? Little House has now been accused of being racially insensitive. I will not claim that Laura herself never held any prejudice sentiments, but, given the time, it would be hard to find anyone who didn't. Laura occasionally expressed fear of the Natives that lived nearby. But again, in the time period along with the image painted by false stories of "savage Indians," this would be a fear that any settler on the prairie would have, and, I dare say, any Native American would have towards white settlers. Laura's writing portrayed what life was really like, and to deny this now is an insult to history. Honestly, one of the few moments in the books that I remember directly mentioning Native Americans was one that showed beauty. Laura, Mary, and their father went on a walk and stumbled upon the old site of an Indian settlement. On the ground, they found handmade beads scattered. I remember imagining how beautiful these beads, glittering in the dirt, must have been. The focus of these books was what life was like on the prairie, and, unfortunately, there was fear on the prairie, too. Should we erase everything that isn't perfect? We weren't perfect in 1870, and we aren't perfect now.
"Remember me with smiles and laughter, for that is how I will remember you all. If you can only remember me with tears, then don't remember me at all."
---- Laura Ingalls Wilder
Sorry, Laura.
~ Christina
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