Many of the awards in literature and journalism are named for men and women with warts. That is not surprising. We are all imperfect and so were they.
Joseph Pulitzer, for whom the prestigious Pulitzer Prize is named, perhaps journalism’s top recognition - is ironically, with William Randolph Hearst, the “Father of Fake News.” Their brand of “yellow journalism” spurred war and led to death and destruction.
Alfred Nobel, the namesake of literature’s top prize, made his fortune making it easier for folks to blow up both things and one another.
John Newbery, the so-called “Father of Children’s Literature” and for whom the American Library Association’s highest children’s literature award is named, was literally a “snake oil salesman.” Newbery made his fortune selling something called “Dr. Robert Jame’s Fever Powder,” a concoction that claimed to cure the gout, rheumatism, scrofula, scurvy, leprosy, and distemper in cattle. Ironically, the powder, which was simply a mix of calcium phosphate and antimony, was a contributing factor in the death of “Miss Goody Two Shoes” author Oliver Goldsmith in 1774. Turns out antimony is a toxic substance. Oops.
Outside of the field of literature, warts abound. Washington and Jefferson owned slaves. Andrew Jackson advocated the wholesale displacement of native Americans. Woodrow Wilson was a segregationist. Babe Ruth was a drunk and womanizer. Not to mention Mark Twain and the racist language in “Huckleberry Finn.” Twain has an annual humorist award named for him that is aired on PBS. The list goes on.
None of those substantial and obvious warts have caused society to remove their names from our towns, cities, states, monuments or awards. Nor should it. We get it. You can honor the whole of a person, warts and all, without condoning what caused the warts to appear in the first place. Good for us. We are that smart. We are that understanding and forgiving.
So it was more than a little disturbing to learn that the American Library Association, in a fit of political correctness, voted in late June to remove the name of Laura Ingalls Wilder from it’s “Children’s Literature Legacy Award.” It was an honor that had been bestowed on her in 1954 and continued every year thereafter. She didn’t ask or lobby for it. They just did it and she graciously accepted. The Wilder award is bestowed annually on an author or illustrator “whose books have made a lasting contribution to children’s literature.” It would be hard to argue that Mrs. Wilder has not done that.
The ALA board said the reason for the change was that Mrs. Wilder’s works “reflect dated cultural attitudes toward Indigenous people and people of color that contradict modern acceptance, celebration, and understanding of diverse communities.” Show me a person who was born more than 150 years ago, and I will show you “dated cultural attitudes.” Please.
The original naming of the award was appropriate. To say that Mrs. Wilder’s “Little House” books are beloved and enjoyed by millions of young people AND adults is like saying kids like ice cream. Spanning nearly a century now, the books have sold over 60 million copies in more than 100 countries.
Let’s look at the real reason Mrs. Wilder was singled out in what we already know is a pretty sorted field of notables for whom awards are named. It is because somebody wrote a book. A good book. It won a Pulitzer. Caroline Fraser’s “Prairie Fires” is excellent. I read it. I recommend it. It is the most comprehensive and exhaustive biography on Mrs. Wilder and her daughter, Rose Wilder Lane. ever written. And as any biography about the pair should do, it details the warts. With no makeup.
You didn’t need a new book to tell you that Laura Ingalls Wilder harbored disturbing prejudicial views - particularly, but not exclusively, toward native Americans. All you had to do was read the books. The first one, “Little House on the Prairie” was published in 1935, nearly 20 years before they decided to name the award for her. But it is also true, if a librarian bothered to research it, that outside of the third book - the one that the television show took as the name for the series - “Little House on the Prairie” - native Americans barely merit a mention in the other eight.
But that is not the point. The award was named for Mrs. Wilder because she brought millions of young people into the world of reading. Her works made book lovers out of generations of Americans. They still do. It was then and is now an appropriate designation.
Instead of seizing this “teaching moment,” as presumably “librarians” are taught to do, the ALA Board voted instead to hide it. Poof. It’s gone. “Whew. We never have to talk about THAT again.”
Wouldn’t it have been better to explain Mrs. Wilder’s prejudices, which were born of the very real horrors and fears of 19th century settler-native American conflict? Imagine the opportunity to reach thousands of young people engrossed in her writings to explain how biases are birthed and, unfortunately, nurtured.
Wouldn’t it have been better to name a new award for one or more of the many fine native American authors and poets? Sherman Alexie, Leslie Marmon Silko, and N Scott Momaday, winner of both the Pulitizer Prize and the National Medals of Art, come to mind to name just a few. And perhaps if his second, third, fourth and fifth novels are anything like his stunning debut in “There, There,” Tommy Orange might merit an award. The “Tommy Orange Award” has a ring to it.
After announcing the Wilder name change, the ALA Board said it would now ”examine our other awards and let us know if there are others that require further review.” The “Geisel Award” named for Dr. Seuss author Ted Geisel was specifically targeted. Please don’t. Leave it alone. Create new awards. Explain the current ones. Teach.
I do not personally know any of the members of the ALA Board, but they must be pretty amazing to be the “first stone casters.” Presumably they are without warts.
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