Telling tales about gender: A critical analysis of Caldecott medal-winning picturebooks, 1938-2011

Crisp, Thomas, & Hiller, Brittany. (2011). Telling tales about gender: A critical analysis of Caldecott medal-winning picturebooks, 1938-2011. Journal of Children’s Literature, 37(2), 18-29.

The authors analyzed the entire body of Caldecott winners to date, looking specifically at depictions of males and females within the 74 picture books that have won that award. In general, their finding is that traditional gender stereotypes of both males and females prevail across the history of the award. Images of girls as passive and staying at home dominate, with boys being depicted as active and adventurous. Apparently in spite of many societal changes over the years, people’s views of gender roles have not really changed much, at least if you accept that the winners of the Caldecott medal reflect societal norms.

One cannot doubt the power of the meanings conveyed in these winners of the most prestigious award in children’s literature. Once a book has won a Caldecott medal, it is almost a certainty that every child in the U.S. will be exposed to that book before long. As the authors write, these books “are ordered by nearly every school and library in the United States” (p. 19). If you believe that the way characters are portrayed in children’s books influences children’s concepts of themselves and others, then the finding that a highly influential set of books heavily portrays gender roles in certain ways is important and even possibly disturbing.

I want children, and all people, to be comfortable with being the way they are. No one should be made to feel like an “other” because all of the children he or she sees depicted in books do not look, act, or feel like he or she does. It’s especially difficult to feel like an “other” in school, where your worth as a person is often judged by how well you fit in with what is considered the norm. This problem is not just limited to gender roles; the problem of “otherness” can relate to one’s racial or ethnic membership, one’s socioeconomic status, one’s abilities and disabilities, and even to the kind of family one is a part of. If you mainly hear or see depictions of characters that are not like you, that can have a damaging effect.

I don’t mean to say that children should never read or hear stories about children who are different from themselves. As important as it is to relate to characters like oneself, it can be mind-opening to learn to know and even love characters that are not like oneself. The point is that children should be exposed to a wide variety of characters and stories, and most importantly, that we have to talk about those characters and stories with children. We need to make sure we get the message across that it is okay to be who you are, with all that being yourself entails, and it is also okay for others to be who they are, even if that means they are very different from the ways we see ourselves. It’s not okay to hurt others, or to try to make it not okay for them to be who they are. If we can get that point across in schools, we will have accomplished something important. Too often, though, schools teach lessons of exclusion instead.

I don’t know how to solve the problem that the authors present here. Crisp and Hiller point out that the majority of authors of Caldecott award over the years have been male, and when you look at the genders of illustrators, the preponderance of male winners is even more startling. So what’s to be done? Award winners certainly should not be chosen on the basis of gender. Maybe we need to encourage more girls to develop skills to become authors and illustrators, but the quality of the book should be the reason it wins. I don’t know how I feel about setting up standards that encourage authors to broaden their views of gender roles, or even rewarding (either officially or unofficially) books that present views of characters that are not necessarily “mainstream.” The art of the books, and the magic of the creative process, must remain intact. If we interfere too much with that, we could end up with books like some of the preachy, didactic monstrosities that children are sometimes subjected to (I am thinking along the lines of “Free to be, you and me”). Still, the undeniable power that children’s books hold comes with a responsibility to use that power in ways that teach inclusion rather than exclusion. That power, and that responsibility, is magnified for award winning books like the Caldecott medal winners. Crisp and Hiller help make us aware of that power, which is an important step toward channeling it in positive and inclusive directions.