Literacy Now

I know the subset of humanity who will attempt to ‘correct’ me and say, “You mean, kids (and grownups) ‘think’ they see ghosts.” No…actually, I mean what I say, kids see ghosts. I’ve collected over 500 stories from direct interviews backed by signed waivers of many people who shared their true tales with me about encounters with ghosts, spirits, angels, and more. I’ve written nine books of ghost stories and it’s clear to me from anecdotal evidence that children experience psychic reality just like adults.

p: 27147 via photopin cc

I’m a professional storyteller and when I finish a performance of one of my ghost story programs—I have so many ghostly tales that they’re broken down into various programs, such as Civil War Ghosts, Hispanic Spirits, Shaker Ghosts, Animal Ghosts—children desperately want to talk to me afterwards to share their own experiences, and I mean kids of any age. They’ve seen orbs, had crazy Ouija board happenings, talked to deceased relatives, spent their youth with an invisible friend, and talked of being in heaven before their birth. I believe that children deserve to be listened to and respected for what they have seen, heard, and felt.

Kids meet developmental stages for not just body, mind and emotional growth; they also move through life testing out and finding experiential bases for psychic/spiritual growth as well. No matter what their parents and other adults say, they have to test their own notions in the real world. And a certain percentage of kids are particularly sensitive.

Now, a child will use whatever language and media images they have at their disposal to talk about their experience the previous night. One boy in Hawaii told his mother over breakfast, “God is walking through the walls at night.” Doesn’t make any sense, right? But he had recently seen the movie BRUCE ALMIGHTY and God, played by African American Morgan Freeman, walked through walls. So this eight year old was basically saying that he saw a dark skin native Hawaiian coming through a multi-dimensional portal. His parents listened, recruited a native shaman, and they took care of closing that energetic doorway.

Storytelling is an entertaining and safe way for kids to listen and wonder and ask about the other realm. And they can take whichever wisdom they want, regardless of the belief system of the parents/family. Many of the ghost stories that I tell also carry moral lessons, such as doing good during our life before actions are more problematical when reoriented into the astral dimension in that final transition. Kids see dead birds, dead grandma in the coffin and see lots of violence on electronic screens. Ghost stories for Halloween—and kids will happily tolerate ghost stories anytime of year—allow the younger and older members of society to look at death, life and what may very well survive the cessation of the physical body.

In HALLOWEEN SLEEPWALKER, a boy wants to go outside and explore on Halloween night. His family talks about their fears related to Halloween and he insists, fearless and adventuresome, that he’d like to go out that night. Denied permission, he heads to bed and later that night gets out of bed to sleepwalk. He goes outside and encounters witches and ghosts. Given an enchanted apple, he temporarily has the second sight. The witches also send him flying on a magic broom.

This fanciful tale allows children to imagine their own wild Halloween fantasies and brings the idea of “third eye” viewing into play. What is our accepted matrix of reality, and do we automatically give that to children, or can they be allowed the freedom to imagine other dimensional strands in the Universe? When I tell ghost stories, I help children deal with a basketful of issues, such as fear of ghosts, appropriate boundary setting and communicating with the dead, testing of magical thinking as balanced with spiritual realities, and permission to simply talk about what is often invisible, denied and yet right in front of many a child’s radar. Our children need tools for dealing with spirits, angels, and with visions—glimpses of information not gained through traditional modes.

I’ve told ghost stories from pre-school to assisted living, and I can tell you that at any and every age level, I can find two peers sitting side by side, with one wide eyed, “I’m going to have nightmares!” and their buddy next to them saying, “That’s not scary enough!” It’s a finely tuned exercise to bring scary tales into a safe environment, but through well-selected stories—some funny and outrageous—songs, and by allowing kids to state their opinions and note their experiences, children benefit greatly from hearing ghost stories.

I back up my ghost story programs with nonfiction books, research, and interviews drawn from my trips around Kentucky, and as far as Alaska and Argentina. We find ghost stories in every tribe, each culture and every state of the union and in each country. From the banshee to La Llorona, witches to disappearing ghosts, common themes emerge in ghost stories. Many of the true tales which I write about and tell in performances are actually heartfelt interventions of deceased loved ones, family or friends, providing rescue or other timely help in our life. Children are now a fairly sophisticated audience, being familiar through television with orbs, EVPs, EMF meters and other tools and terms of ghost hunters.

In most families, they have already seen and heard more than you know. Do you know about Stick Man? Ask any class of fifth graders and a dozen hands will go up. What do you say when your seven year old says, “There’s something under my bed!” Likely the parent will nod sympathetically, talk blandly about nighttime fears and send the kid off to bed—father knows best? But here in Louisville, Bonnie Phillips, a woman who ‘clears’ houses tells a story about arranging a house clearing for a family with two kids. Bonnie tells the host parents to make sure that the kids are off to school or with grandparents, all the pets are out of the home, because “we may stir things up”.

In this case, the younger daughter who had special needs slept with mom and dad, and the boy, off in his own bedroom, was reporting the troublesome spirits. Bonnie met the parents on the front porch and then proceeded into the house, Bonnie going in one direction and her daughter Amber heading into the boy’s bedroom. Amber heard a hiss and a growl from under the boy’s bed. She immediately thought the parents hadn’t removed the cat or dog. She went back to the front porch, in a huff, accusing them, “We can’t do our job until your remove your pets!” The parents looked at them with a blank stare, replying, “We don’t have any pets.”

Building upon April’s multicultural book review column, we highlight books which focus on movement in literal and figurative ways. Our global communities are continually shifting as people, ideas, and cultural practices enter and exit geographic locales. The books reviewed this week span the continuum of life and time. They highlight physical migration, illustrate the ramifications of social and political movements (or lack thereof), document ideological shifts, and celebrate the moving effects of creativity. International books recently published in the U.S. are also included to broaden our understandings of books read around the world.

GRADES K-3

Bar-el, Dan. (2013). Dream boats. Illus. Kirsti Anne Wakelin. Vancouver, Canada: Simply Read Books.

Just as “a picture is worth a thousand words,” dreams enable us to embark on wondrous adventures. Readers of this picture book will be captivated by the journeys of legend and lore as young children around the world reunite with their culture, tradition, history, and heritage. These youth meet Viracocha near the Andes Mountains; Ganesh near Mumbai; Bear Spirits and Baba Yaga near St. Petersburg, Russia; Obatala alongside the Niger River, among others. They also engage in spontaneous “play dates” with each other. Their adventures become “stories woven into their blankets” and their memories become cognitive maps of past and future. The poetic vignettes and lush, detailed mixed media illustrations will enchant readers of all ages. For those with a more pragmatic purpose for reading, the end pages also offer detailed instructions of how to create one’s own dream boat.

—Jennifer M. Graff, The University of Georgia

Nastanlieva, Vanya. (2013). The new arrival. Vancouver, Canada: Simply Read Books.

Using a cross-hatch style and warm color palette, and perhaps inspired by her own immigration experiences, Bulgarian children’s book creator, Vanya Nastanlieva, offers young readers a heart-warming and humorous story about making friends. Sam, an endearing hedgehog, embarks on a journey to find a new home. While his new home is idyllic in many ways, it’s missing one critical element: friends. Sam looks everywhere for friends of any kind and endures the extremities of weather during his search. He even sacrifices much of his “hair” (quills) to affix “Wanted Friend” notices to the forest trees. Unbeknownst to him and just before he gives up hope, his forest mates organize a party to welcome him into their community. The asides spoken by the forest mates throughout the book provide the readers with assurances that everything will be well in the end. Making friends, a never-ending dilemma for people of all ages, is one story which needs repeating, and this book is a welcome addition.

—Ying Cui & Jennifer M. Graff, The University of Georgia

Young, Jessica. (2013). My blue is happy. Illus. Catia Chien. Boston, MA: Candlewick Press.

A young girl’s discovery that she and her sister interpret the color blue differently leads to her realization that divergent beliefs are part and parcel of life. Intrigued by her discovery, the girl engages in a fascinating exploration of the meaning of colors within her community. Catia Chien’s bright and captivating illustrations go beyond the verbal narrative and invite young readers to discover many interesting details that fulfill our daily routine. This story is a playful reminder about how we can not only coexist in difference, but also how the world is enriched by difference. My Blue is Happy might become a classroom favorite and a gateway to discussions about colors and their symbolism from both individual and cultural perspectives.

—Oksana Lushchevska, The University of Georgia

Yum, Hyewon. (2013). This is our house. New York, NY: Frances Foster Books.

This is Our House is a story about three generations of one family. Following the young girl protagonist’s narrative, readers learn about things that are cherished by her family: their house, their street, and the trees, among other items. Readers, however, might notice that the house is itself a strong and firm character in the book. Its doors, steps, stairs, and rooms relate to a time when the girl’s grandparents arrived from “far away with just two suitcases” (unpaged). Page by page, the canvas of immigrant life unfolds; they settle in the house and area, and their children and, then, grandchildren are born. Thus, in this short and vivid story, Yum manages to cover many details about how a house becomes a home with her vibrant mixed-media illustrations and the child-like narrative. After using this book for a read-aloud in the classroom, teachers might engage young learners in a discussion about the history of the origins of their own families.

—Oksana Lushchevska, The University of Georgia

GRADES 4-6

Leyson, Leon, Harran, Marilyn J., & Leyson, Elisabeth B. (2013). The boy on the wooden box. New York, NY: Atheneum Books for Young Readers.

This memoir from one of the young children saved by Oskar Schindler during World War II helps readers better understand how one person can make a significant difference in the world. Leon Leyson was born Leib Lejzon, the youngest of five children in a loving, working-class, Jewish family living in Narweka, Poland. While Leyson enjoyed the first decade of his life, he began experiencing the horrific consequences of prejudice and the persecution of Jews at the age of ten. The majority of this memoir details how Leon, his family, and friends endured the horrors of living in Jewish ghettos and working in concentration camps, even with the continued support of Schindler. Leyson’s stoicism, as conveyed through his matter-of-fact tone, does not diminish the emotional impact of his story. Photographs and an afterword by his wife and children, complement this gripping tale of past atrocities and emphasize the need for survivors’ stories to be told and retold so as to not forget. Some educators and parents might want to reserve this book for early middle school readers due to the content.

—Jennifer M. Graff, The University of Georgia

Williams-Garcia, Rita. (2013). P. S. be eleven. New York, NY: Amistad.
 
Rita Williams-Garcia delights readers with the sequel to her award-winning novel, One Crazy Summer (2011). Upon returning to Big Ma and Pa in Bedford-Stuyvesant, New York, Vonetta, Fern, and Delphine continue to explore the wonders and complexities of growing up and desiring independence while remaining sheltered within the cocoon of their community. Informed by their summer spent with their mother, Cecile, in Oakland, California, all three sisters continue to negotiate their roles as sisters, family members, and citizens of the world. The girls are excited by the return of Uncle Darnell from Vietnam, yet disturbed by his personality change. They also experience a redefinition of family when their father weds Marva Hendrix, a younger woman who seems on the surface to be the antithesis of Cecile. Such feelings are compounded by Delphine’s desire for a mother who expresses her love in a way Cecile does not. Young readers will definitely relate to episodes of friendships tinged with friction and sibling squabbles. Throw some Tina Turner and The Jackson 5 into the mix and you have a winner for all ages.

—Jennifer M. Graff, The University of Georgia

GRADES 7-8

Crossan, Sarah. (2013). The weight of water. New York, NY: Bloomsbury.

This contemporary fiction novel narrates the transnational escapades of Kasienka and her mother as they search for Kasienka’s “missing father." Although Kasienka understands that her “tata” ran away from them, she abides by her mother’s decision to remain in England until they find him. At school, Kasienka goes through all of the misfortunes and turbulence of being a newcomer. She is often bullied; however, her athleticism as a swimmer helps her acclimate to the culture of her new community, Coverty.

The hallmark of The Weight of Water lies in its narrative. Written in free verse, the novel communicates all the tension and emotional unbalance that Kasienka and her mother experience. Since the title was first published in the UK, it will definitely serve as an essential book for developing global awareness. To deepen the discussion on the immigration theme The Weight of Water might be paired with Thanhha Lai’s (2011) free verse novel, Inside Out and Back Again.

—Oksana Lushchevska, The University of Georgia

Matti, Truus. (2013). Mister Orange. Trans. Laura Watkinson. New York, NY: Enchanted Lion Books.

Twelve-year-old Linus Muller is proud of his brother Albie’s decision to fight in WWII. The idea that Albie will become a fearless hero fighting for justice, like his favorite Action Comics character, Mister Superspeed, fascinates Linus. He imagines his brother bravely and tirelessly fighting Hitler and the Nazis. Then, he meets “Mr. Orange,” a mysterious immigrant from England. Mr. Orange, also known as artist Piet Mondrian (1872-1944), shares with Linus the destructive nature of war on all aspects of life. Through these conversations, Linus starts to understand that his brother is not doing a heroic deed but, rather, is struggling to stay alive. When Mr. Orange passes away, Linus learns that he is the founder of a new trend in art: neoplasticism. Mr. Orange’s final work “Broadway Boogie-Woogie” helps Linus to see the colors of the future, which, of course, for the contemporary generation, is the past. Mister Orange is written by a Dutch writer whose novel Departure Time (2010) became a 2011 Batchelder Honor Book. The text is masterfully translated by Laura Watkinson. The book also includes some information about Piet Mondrian.  

—Oksana Lushchevska, The University of Georgia

Sandler, Martin W. (2013). Imprisoned: The betrayal of Japanese Americans during World War II. London, UK: Walker Books.

Through engaging and insightful perspectives, Imprisoned reveals important, and perhaps unknown, details about the horrific events involving the internment of Japanese Americans following the attack on Pearl Harbor.  Selecting information from extensive, previously unpublished interviews and oral histories with Japanese American survivors of internment camps, Martin W. Sandler expertly crafts an in-depth narrative of their lives before, during their imprisonment, and after their release. The author also includes a lengthy and moving section about the young Japanese Americans who served in the military in a variety of capacities, from actual combat to intelligence and translation services. Ironically, while these brave soldiers were battling prejudice and tyranny overseas, their families and friends were experiencing both at home. Extensive use of photographs furthers this gripping narrative. These photographs tell their own stories and illustrate a range of emotions often unattainable through words. This is a must-have nonfiction book for classroom and personal libraries.

—Ying Cui, The University of Georgia

GRADES 9-12

Joseph, Lynn. (2013). Flowers in the sky. New York, NY: HarperTeen.

In this contemporary fiction novel, fifteen-year-old Nina Perez, known as the “flower girl” in her hometown of Samana, departs from the Dominican Republic to New York City. Although Nina does not want to leave the town where she grows flowers and watches the whales, her mother insists on this trip. Her mother is sure that Nina’s older brother, Darrio, will take good care of her, and one day, she would have a better life in America. However, as Nina discovers upon arriving in New York, Darrio has been incarcerated. Fortunately, a barber, Luis, and Senora Rivera help Nina out. Nina ultimately decides to stay in New York to not only help Darrio but also build a new life.

In Flowers in the Sky, readers can envision New York through a newcomer’s eyes and will also have a chance to understand what the protagonist’s homeland means to her. The geographical landscapes of the Dominican Republic and Nina’s reflections on her flower garden are two of the most enjoyable aspects of this novel. Additionally, the lives of immigrants in the U.S. and the image of the U.S., as presented by Lynn Joseph who left Trinidad for the U.S. at the age of ten, are crucial components for classroom discussion. Educators and students can learn more about Joseph and her life on her website.

—Oksana Lushchevska, The University of Georgia

Farizan, Sara. (2013). If you could be mine. Chapel Hill, NC: Algonquin Young Readers.

What extremes would you go to in order to be with the one you love, especially if your love is considered criminal? This is one of the essential questions posed by author Sara Farizan in her debut novel, If You Could Be Mine. A few years prior, Sahar was devastated by her mother’s death. Now, at the age of seventeen, Sahar experiences further devastation. Nasrin, her best friend and confidante—a woman who Sahar has loved since the age of six—will soon marry the man of her parents’ choosing. Feeling lost and alone in a country which considers homosexuality to be a crime punishable by death, Sahar struggles to figure out not only how to better ensure she and Nasrin can secretly stay together but also how to survive if they cannot.  For Sahar, a sex-change operation is the perfect solution. If she could become a man, then she and Nasrin could legally be together. With the help of her cousin Ali and a transgender community in Tehran, Sahar seeks out a surgeon for the procedure. Yet, she cannot escape the nagging feeling of personal betrayal. Is sacrificing one’s self to help retain the love of another worth it?  Can Sahar follow through with the procedure, and even if she does, will Nasrin cancel her arranged marriage? Readers will appreciate both the contemporariness and timelessness of this sensitive and poignant look at identity and love from multiple perspectives.

—Jennifer M. Graff, The University of Georgia

These reviews are submitted by members of the International Reading Association's Children's Literature and Reading Special Interest Group (CL/R SIG) and are published weekly on Reading Today Online. 

Good readers know that a given word can have more than one meaning, and can lead or mislead readers in more than one direction. In fact, there are 464 of them used by the Oxford English Dictionary to define the single word “set.” Adding to the potential confusion for readers are the connotative and denotative meanings of a given word. When One-Directional Harry croons, “You’re my kryptonite,” he is not suggesting the object of his affections possesses a radioactive element from the planet Krypton, an element that keeps making him “weak, frozen,” and “unable to breathe.”

p: Eva Rinaldi via photopin cc

Interpreting kryptonite in this way would mean ascribing a literal or denotative meaning to the word. Instead, the singer implies the object of his adoration has mega-powers, enough to render him speechless. He is using the figurative, connotative, metaphoric allusion to her power with phrases such as “get out of my head” and “climbing the walls.”

Musical metaphors themselves may well be a way to reach reluctant readers given the following that popular singers have among the young. The following activity presents a means of enhancing comprehension skills via symbolic words that take readers to the level of abstraction necessary for full understanding and for faster reading.

In addition, the exercise hones research skills, teamwork skills, writing, creative, performance, and presentation skills as well. To get the most out of the exercise, follow these steps:

1. Begin by explaining that throughout literature, legendary iconic figures have been imbued with or affected by powerful objects. These magical objects, frequently the motivation for the hero’s or heroine’s quest, have been used for good, but often are used for evil purposes. Such is the case with Superman, who found his superpowers weakened by exposure to kryptonite. The objects symbolize the antithetical forces.
   
   Make copies of the provided list and distribute to students. Form teams and have them research the legends—one per team. Their reports, which will be delivered orally, should tell others about the historical or legendary figure, the object or symbol used in the story, and the type of power that object had.
   
   Encourage the use of props, questions, quotes, illustration, and audience-interaction as the reports are being prepared. Explain that the teams will be judged on a one to ten scale for the thoroughness, clarity, and interest conveyed in the oral report.

2. Have each team make its report and have the remaining students fill in the blanks pertaining to the research other teams have done. Assign a score on a scale of one to ten for each presentation.

3. Segue into the song-creation assignment part of the activity by discussing the examples below. (Cite, too, the One Direction explanation of the effect kryptonite has on the singer.)
   
   Then have the same student-teams that researched and presented their reports complete these metaphor starters—one per team. They are free to use the researched symbols/objects or other items of their own choosing. But they must give a rationale in the “Because” section for the selection of a particular metaphor. Use a metaphor starter template like this one to guide them.

   Examples:

   You are my palette
   Because you allow the colors of my personality to be expressed.   

   You are my school,
   Because I have learned so much from you.

   You are my pencil,
   Because you have made your mark upon my life.

4. Discuss literal versus symbolic (connotative/figurative/ metaphoric) meanings. Show the difference between denotative and connotative meanings via simple examples, such as “He’s very helpful,” versus “He’s an angel.” Or “She is a good friend,” versus “She’s my rock.”

5. Once students are clear on the difference between the two types of meaning they encounter in their reading, explain that good readers can tell the difference, whether they are listening to the lyrics of a song or reading stories from their literature books. Understanding the difference, of course, is one of the keys to full comprehension.
   
   Next, explain that teams will engage in a relay race, the winner of which will earn an additional ten points. The race depends on having an equal number of people on each team. (If there are one or two students “left over,” assign them the task of checking the answers and handing out the next cards to relay members.)
   
   The first person on each team is given a card and a pencil. He or she must decide if the song-excerpt is literal or figurative. If it is literal, the student circles that word. If it is figurative/symbolic/ metaphoric, the student will circle the actual reference. Once the card is handed to you (or to the student card-checker) and has been given correct-answer approval, the next card is given to the next person on the team.
   
   If the answer is wrong, the same person must answer the next card. He or she cannot hand off the pencil to the next person on the team until the correct answer is encircled.
   
   Using this example as a guide, print lyrics on cards—six cards for each team.

6. Have teams create a song of their own, using the lyrics from any of their favorite songs as a construct. Their songs, however, must contain a fully supported metaphor.

7. Have the teams perform their songs in front of an audience. Invite the school principal, librarian, and one other administrator or teacher to serve on the judging panel. Ask the judges, following each team performance, to offer feedback, based on these questions:
   
   Was the metaphor clear?
   Was there verbal support for the metaphor?
   Did the song make sense?
   Was the choice of words appealing to listeners?
   
   The judges will rate the performances (using the 1–10 scale)—not so much on musical ability as on the clarity of the metaphor.

8. The winning team (with the highest number of points, 30 being a perfect score) can be given some academic boon—extra credit points, a phone call to their parents, or a treat of some sort.

9. If possible, videotape the performances and put them on YouTube. (Obtain parental and principal-ian permission before doing so.)

EXTENDED ACTIVITY

Excerpts from stories the class is reading or passages from newspapers and magazines can be used for relay races. Lyrical excerpts can be chosen from the music most popular among students of different ages.

Several years ago, CAST was collaborating with middle school teachers in thinking about how the Universal Design for Learning (UDL) framework might help maximize student learning in science. One of the teachers mentioned that helping students write scientific reports was one of her biggest challenges. That idea turned into a three-year research and development grant funded by the Office of Special Education Programs (OSEP) and the NEC Foundation, which resulted in a free interactive web-based instructional tool called Science Writer.

Science Writer is designed to lead students through the process of developing a scientific report. Research-based instructional supports are embedded into Science Writer, including:

• The report-writing process is separated in manageable components
• Steps of the writing process are scaffolded
• An organizational structure for report writing is provided
• Sentence starters help initiate writing throughout

Embedded animated coaches, Max, Sam, and Eko provide strategies and models as students move through the process of writing a scientific report.

Science Writer is helpful for teachers who have been trained to teach science and may not have much experience teaching writing. It also helps students who may struggle with “writing like scientists” by guiding them through the process of writing scientific reports as required by The Next Generation Science Standards (NGSS). These standards, now aligned with the Common Core State Standards (CCSS) for writing, acknowledge that writing is a critical skill for scientists who need to share their knowledge about concepts and findings. (See Appendix M, NGSS).

Stacey Reed, a seventh grade life science teacher in Wayland, Massachusetts, has been using Science Writer for four years and shares her implementation of Science Writer in her classroom:

"While perusing the NGSS, I was energized by the call to slow down, get students to design experiments, ask good questions, and communicate. I created a chart summarizing these practices.

Devoting time to laboratory experiences promotes these science practices, but the resulting writing process is a daunting prospect, especially with students in my classes who struggle with reading and writing. Lab report writing is a very specific type of technical writing, integral to the scientific field, that requires organization. It is not a genre that students read on their own time; therefore, they have few models on which to base their own writing.

Science Writer makes lab report writing far more accessible using UDL strategies, giving students a chance to choose the level of assistance on each task required to create the report. One student might find success when Science Writer chunks the tasks into more manageable pieces. Another student may write conclusions well, but is puzzled by what an analysis section entails. The Science Writer coaches provide model texts for students to learn what is expected.

For instance, a reluctant writer was excited that her gummy bear osmosed with water to 168% of the original volume. We opened Science Writer, and her hand reflexively shot up, asking what she should write. She could retell the directions, so she didn’t need the Eko coach. I suggested she check in with Sam to see a model. A penguin popped up showing his introduction and modeling his thinking process. While she was independently writing a quality introduction, I was able to coach another student who was deciding between sentence starters.

Once students completed the lab report, they displayed more ownership over the ideas they discovered in the lab. As we continue to use the program, I watch students grow beyond the need for the scaffolding supports as they develop a clearer understanding of the expectations of scientific writing and develop science practices."

Peggy Coyne is a Research Scientist at CAST, Inc.

Stacey Reed is a seventh grade life science teacher in Wayland, MA.

This article is part of a series from the International Reading Association Technology in Literacy Education Special Interest Group (TILE-SIG).

In 2006, a survey found that while only 24% of Americans could name two Supreme Court Justices, 77% could name two of Snow White’s dwarves.

I find that disturbing.

Not because the Supreme Court is more important than Snow White. I will, in fact, argue just the opposite.

No, I find that survey’s results disturbing because the dwarves in the original Snow White stories don’t have any names.

In this essay I will tell you the real story of Snow White; or rather, the real stories—for the Brothers Grimm published more than one version of the tale. Those versions are, as you might guess, rather bloody and rather grim. And so, once I’ve recounted the tale’s twisted history, I will explain why those bloody, grim incarnations of Snow White are exactly the ones that you should be sharing with your children and your students.

In 1806, the most famous folklorist in Germany was not named Grimm. His name was Clemens Brentano. He had recently published a collection of German folksongs, but was looking to start working with folk tales as well.

He was introduced to two young brothers who had recently graduated from law school, but found their passions flowing rather towards folklore than the law. Brentano asked for their scholarly assistance. Would they help him collect stories from the people of Germany, so that he might publish them?

These two young scholars, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, took up the challenge zealously. They invited acquaintances and amateur story-tellers from all walks of life—petty aristocrats and French Huguenot exiles and bankrupt soldiers—to their home and wrote down the stories they heard.

In 1810, the Brothers Grimm sent forty-nine tales to Clemens Brentano. Among them were the stories of Sleeping Beauty, Rumpelstiltskin, The Frog Prince, and Snow White.

Those stories were not seen again for more than a hundred years. Brentano, it seems, took them to a monastery in Alsace and left them there. Luckily, the Brothers Grimm, like the diligent scholars that they were, had backed up their work. They’d made copies.

So in 1812, once it became clear that Brentano was not following through on his project, the Brothers Grimm published their own editions of the fairy tales. They didn’t call them “fairy tales,” though, since there is not a single fairy in their book. In German, the Grimm tales are called Kinder- und Hausmärchen, which means “Children’s and Household Tales,” and is pronounced “KIN-der oont house-MYARE-cccccccchen.” That last syllable relies on you hocking a loogie while speaking. Good luck with that.

Over the next forty-five years the Brothers Grimm published a total of seven editions of the fairy tales, and their reputation steadily grew. In 1870, not long after the Brothers’ deaths, the Grimm’s fairy tales were incorporated into the teaching curriculum of Prussia. By the turn of the century, the Tales of the Brothers Grimm had become the second best-selling book in Germany, behind only the Bible—a distinction it holds to this day. In the English-speaking world, it had become wildly successful as well. In 1900, The Daily Mail of London named it one of the ten books all children must own. And in 1937 Walt Disney began his full-length motion picture empire with Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, breaking box-office records and winning a special Academy Award. It is no exaggeration to say that those two young German scholars changed the world.

But how? What did they do that was so special? There were folklorists before them (like Brentano) and after them. Why do their stories still take pride of place, two hundred years later?

The Brothers Grimm had a peculiar combination of scholarly brilliance and artistic flair. Jacob, the older brother, was the task-master and the father-figure. Wilhelm was the artist—though also a scholar in his own right. Together, they cast a wide net, bringing in hundreds of stories, and then choosing those they deemed the most typical of the German folk and the most satisfying for children and adults. Wilhelm in particular revised the stories that they heard, adding delicious and dark details and elevating the prose.

An excellent example of this process is the tale entitled “Schneewittchen” (SCHNAY-vitt-chen), or “Little Snow White.”

The final, 1857 edition of the tale has a great deal in common with the most famous retelling, Walt Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. I’ll merely point out the major differences, assuming you remember the film.

In the 1857 version of Snow White, the step-mother does not ask the Huntsman to bring back the little girl’s heart, as she does in the film. She asks, rather, for Snow White’s lungs and liver. When the hunter fools her by bringing the lungs and liver of a young boar instead, she “boils them in salt” and she eats them. Which is awesome.

Little Snow White runs off to the dwarves, who, as I mentioned before, have no names. They also have no individuated personalities. The queen comes to the dwarves’ house not once, but three times, and each time she leaves with Snow White apparently dead. The third time, the queen returns with what the Brothers Grimm describe as “a poisonous, poisonous apple”—it’s so poisonous you have to say it twice. One face of the apple is deadly, the other is not, and she convinces her step-daughter to taste the apple by biting the wholesome side herself. Schneewittchen takes a bite and falls down dead.

The dwarves are unable to revive her, so they put her in a glass coffin, embossed with her name and birth. Many years later, a prince comes to the house and sees the dead girl. And he falls in love with her. Which, you have to admit, is kind of weird.

He asks to buy the girl from the dwarves, but they refuse. He tells them that he will die if he can’t see her every day for the rest of his life. As his servants are carrying her home, they drop her, and the jolt effectively performs the Heimlich maneuver on Snow White. A chunk of poison apple comes flying out of her mouth and she returns to life.

That’s right—there is no kiss. Just Snow White getting dropped.

Snow White and the prince get married, and the evil step-mother is invited to the wedding. Here’s my favorite part. When she sees Snow White, alive and marrying a prince, she is “so petrified with fright that she could not budge. Iron slippers had already been heated over a fire, and they were brought over to her with tongs. Finally, she had to put on the red-hot slippers and dance until she fell down dead.”

The End.

(I LOVE IT.)

So that’s the real, Grimm version of Snow White.

At least, the real, 1857 version. But already, Jacob and Wilhelm had made many revisions to the tale. Perhaps the most interesting is this: in the first published edition of the story, in 1812, there is no step-mother. In the 1812 version, the evil queen is HER MOM. How much scarier and more vivid is her jealous rage at the little girl’s beauty when that little girl is her daughter? Instead of merely telling the huntsman to kill Snow White and bring back her organs, this wonderful mother says, “Take her out into the woods to a remote spot, and stab her to death.” And then she eats her organs. (Or thinks she does.)

The ending is different, too. Not the iron-hot shoes—that happens in every edition (if it ain’t broke…!). In the 1812 edition of the story, the prince manages to get the coffin home without dropping it. He makes his servants carry it with him from room to room, so that he might gaze on his beloved. One of the servants eventually gets fed up having to lug this enormous glass box around, so he opens it and smacks the comatose girl. At which point, the chunk of apple flies from her throat, and she wakes up. Which is even more hilarious than dropping her.

Of all the editions, I’d have to say that 1812 is my favorite; that’s the one I’d share with kids. But better than sharing just one edition, I think, is sharing them all. For when we know the many layers of a story, our reading becomes as rich as its history.

So should you be sharing these gruesome stories with your kids at all?

Yes, I believe you should.

Fairy tales speak to children and adults on two levels simultaneously. The primary level is narrative—fairy tales are, in most cases, good stories that are well told. The other level, though, is deeper; it is the level of our most basic, oldest emotions.

Cinderella is not just about a girl who gets to go to a ball and marry a prince. It is about a hero who is unappreciated, who is more beautiful and more valuable than anyone recognizes. We have all felt unappreciated—by parents or siblings, classmates or coworkers. Most of us believe we are capable of great things, if only people would see us clearly. Children, more than adults, feel this way; and rightly so, for they have yet to achieve their enormous potential.

Snow White tells a different emotional tale. This is a story of competition. The (step-)mother loves her daughter—until the little girl threatens her position as the most beautiful in the land. Then the queen wants not only to kill her, but to eat her organs, as if ingesting her will allow the woman to take on the little girl’s beauty.

As children grow, parents sometimes feel competitive with them: the dad who resents that his son is growing stronger, faster, physically more talented than he; the mom who can’t bear to see her daughter’s sexuality eclipsing her own. But while this competition is sometimes harbored by the parent, it is always harbored by the child. Every boy wishes his mother would love him more than she loves his father. Every girl wants her father’s attention to stay glued upon her, even when her mother is around. Freud called this the Oedipus Complex, but I don’t see it as sexual; it’s about primacy of love.

Some of you are with me right now, and some of you are rolling your eyes. “My son doesn’t want me to love him more than I love my husband,” you’re thinking. You’re right. He doesn’t. But also, he does. At the same time. Minds are complex like that.

Children love their parents, and yet feel these competitive emotions intensely. The best fairy tales—and Snow White is among the very best—give children a way to fantasize about their difficult, darkest feelings, and to project them onto evil fathers and step-mothers, rather than their own parents, thereby working them out. Fairy tales give children the faith that those feelings do not make them evil and will not swallow them up. They will ultimately be integrated, and become a small part of the triumphant story of that child’s life.

Which this is the most important thing. Children are optimists. Fairy tales teach them that their optimism is well-founded.

This is why I write the books that I do, weaving Grimm narratives of my own. And this is why we should share Grimm stories with our kids, and with our students. To prove to them that though they pass through the darkest zones, they shall emerge stronger and wiser in the end.

Adam Gidwitz is the author of two ALA Notable, New York Times best-selling books A Tale Dark and Grimm and In a Glass Grimmly. His third book, The Grimm Conclusion, is out now. For more on the subject of real, scary fairy tales and why they’re good for children, read Adam Gidwitz’s In Defense of Real Fairy Tales, on the Wall Street Journal’s Speakeasy Blog or visit his website.