We Really Do Care

by Tami Lewis Brown, Tania de Regil

Overview

Inspired by current events, this picture book shows the importance of compassion, empathy, and demonstrates how even the smallest act of kindness can make a difference.

A little boy has a ball. It's his, and he really doesn't care if nobody else has a ball. He's not sharing. He's not sharing his pets either. Or his family. Especially not his brother. But then he realizes that both he and the new little girl he meets--the one who's all alone without a ball or a pet or a family of her own--are actually quite similiar. And when he sees their similarities instead of their differences, he's happy to share. Even his little brother.

With gentle text from Tami Lewis Brown and sweet illustrations from Tania de Regil, this poignant and touching picture book challenges each and every one of us to to lend a helping hand. Because we really should care. Perfect for fans of Be Kind and All Are Welcome.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781984836311
Publisher:	Penguin Young Readers Group
Publication date:	09/03/2019
Sold by:	Penguin Group
Format:	eBook
Pages:	32
File size:	21 MB
Note:	This product may take a few minutes to download.
Age Range:	4 - 8 Years

About the Author

TAMI LEWIS BROWN holds an MFA in Writing for Children from Vermont College. She has been a lawyer, and more recently, writer-in-residence and librarian at The Sheridan School in Washington, D.C., as well as the author of The Map of Me and Soar, Elinor! Tami grew up in Kentucky and attended Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts. Now she lives in one of the oldest houses in Washington, D.C.

TANIA DE REGIL is an author and illustrator from Mexico City. When she was five, she moved to Stockholm, Sweden with her family, where she discovered her love of reading and decided that she wanted to be a professional author some day. Tania's American debut picture book, A New Home, which she both wrote and illustrated, will publish in Spring 2019 by Candlewick Press.

Editorial Reviews

2019-06-23
A tale of empathy and inclusion.

A white child and a brown-skinned child, both nameless and with button eyes and simply drawn facial features, cross paths in a peaceful city park. Initially, the white child emphatically claims ownership in bold phrases familiar to young ears: "My ball belongs to me," and "You can't have my mom." In a turnkey double-page spread, a park scene on the left shows green grass, a gentle tree trunk, and the white child's family on a picnic blanket, while across the gutter is vast negative space as the white child notices the brown-skinned child, alone, on the ground end of a seesaw. The negative space creates the pause. "Wait." What unfolds is a series of broad questions about fear of loneliness and loss. The brown-skinned child plays and shares with the formerly possessive white child but never says a word. It is assumed the brown-skinned child does not have a family, and while the white family welcomes the lonely child, why that child is alone in the park is never resolved. While a lot can be said for unspoken understanding, the brown-skinned child's voicelessness makes all the interactions feel one-sided and assumptive. A "we" narrative about caring unfurls, stretching to include families, nature, and animals across the world. While micro-interactions are inevitably connected to global networks of caring, the leap from sharing toys to global togetherness is preachy and contrived.

One-sidedness sinks this well-meaning tale. (Picture book. 4-7)

Kirkus Reviews