An Owl with Quaker Values

Last year, while browsing in a comic shop, I came upon a delightful collection titled Owly: Tiny Tales by Andy Runton. The cover featured a cartoon owl with enormous eyes in an armchair, reading a book for a gathering of forest critters, all wearing gleeful expressions on their faces.

Curious, I flipped through a few pages, and found it to be both child-friendly in content, but more interestingly, wordless. The characters communicated through a series of symbols, exclamation points and question marks, as well as lightbulbs to express having an idea and horseshoes to say "Good luck!" As a teaching artist who values visual literacy and parent of two pre-readers, I was pleased with my discovery. I purchased it while imagining my daughters learning to read symbols and also having a book they could "read" all on their own.

Later, I realized it had even greater value.

Owly: Tiny Tales (you can read an excerpt on Andy Runton's website) is a collection of short stories told in classic comic format. The first story was "Splashin' Around." On a blazing hot, summer day, Owly and his best friend Wormy go to water a drooping flower and find that their watering can has a hole in it. They take it to the Nursery where Raccoon patches it up, but not before they notice a flock of birds joyfully playing in a puddle that has formed under the can. Racoon tells the pair about a contest to build the best bird bath. Owly and Wormy decide to enter. They bounce their ideas back and forth and come up with a bird bath that is a large bowl of water attached to a potted tree, because birds love both water and trees. Their birdbath isn't the most aesthetically pleasing design, and they become worried when they see a much larger, fancier, shinier birdbath in the competition. Nevertheless, they wish their competitors good luck. Even though the judges all express approval with the reasoning behind Owly and Wormy's tree birdbath, the first prize is still awarded to the fancier entry. Owly and Wormy eyes fill with tears and they mope all evening. But the next morning, Raccoon shows up at their door with news of a happy surprise. They rush back to the nursery to joyfully discover that the birds prefer their birdbath.

I'm not ashamed to admit that my own eyes teared up a bit when I read this story. Most children's stories in books, shows, and movies fail to achieve this level of just sheer goodness, even when, and maybe especially when they are trying to teach morals, ethics, and values to kids.

In NutureShock, chapter 9: "Plays Well With Others", journalists Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman report on studies into children's entertainment. Dr. Jamie Ostrov and Dr. Douglas Gentile ran repeated studies, trying to find out if watching violent shows such as Power Rangers made children more anti-social, and conversely, if watching "educational" shows such as Clifford and Arthur would make children more pro-social. The results were surprising:

More exposure to violent media did increase the rate of physical aggression shown at school -- however, it did so only modestly. In fact, watching educational television also increased the rate of physical aggression, almost as much as watching violent TV. And just like in the Minnesota study, educational television had a dramatic effect on relational aggression. The more the kids watched, the crueler they'd be to their classmates. This correlation was 2.5 times higher than the correlation between violent media and physical aggression.
    Essentially, Ostrov had just found that Arthur is more dangerous for children than Power Rangers. 

Ostrov was quoted saying:

"Preschoolers have a difficult time being able to connect information at the end of the show to what happened earlier. It is likely that young children do not attend to the overall 'lesson' in the manner an older child or adult can, but instead learn from each of the behaviors shown." 

In other words, when preschoolers watch fictional bullies, they learn about the social advantages that motivate bullying behavior.

This is why Owly is so refreshing. "Splashin' Around" was a narrative that didn't resort to anyone being cruel or selfish in order to create conflict. Every person honored the dignity of every other person. Some experienced painful emotions, but were able to quietly sit with those feelings without lashing out at others. Resolution was found not in the protagonists getting the showy accolades they sought, but in them receiving a more profound appreciation for their efforts.

One of the first things that struck me about Owly is that his best friend is a worm. One of nature's most vicious and stealthy avian predators paired with a creepy crawly synonymous with bird food! I instantly thought, here is a contemporary version of the Peaceable Kingdom.

The Peaceable Kingdom is a series of 61 paintings by Edward Hicks, inspired by the Biblical passage Isaiah 11: 6-8:

 The wolf will live with the lamb,
    the leopard will lie down with the goat,
the calf and the lion and the yearling[a] together;
    and a little child will lead them.
 The cow will feed with the bear,
    their young will lie down together,
    and the lion will eat straw like the ox.
 The infant will play near the cobra’s den,
    and the young child will put its hand into the viper’s nest.

(From the New International Version) 

One of Edward Hick's Peaceable Kingdom paintings.

Of course taken literally by anyone deeply acquainted with biological science, the passage seems absurd. But I (and most Christian theologians) would argue that taking the passage literally is absurd. Certainly Hicks, a Quaker, didn't take it literally. This passage is far more interesting and indeed inspiring when interpreted symbolically. Quakers such as Hicks believe the "inner light", or that which is of God, is part of every human being. Learning to think and live the right way allows people to tap into the divine, and thus salvation.

To me, a secular humanist, this passage and Hick's fanciful imagery represents the human animal striving to create conditions that bring out that which is most noble about our species.

I taught art for two years at a PreK-8th grade Friends (Quaker) school, and reading Owly stories, I constantly find parallels between his fictional world and the ideals expressed in the Quaker Testimonies.

Quakers worship in silence, only speaking if moved by the "inner light." Referring to the testimony of Silent Reflection as a "habit of mind", the American Friends Service Committee writes:

...silence is often used to settle into a meeting, to invite reflection, or to allow time for the synthesis of ideas. Silence refreshes the spirit and makes way for deep thinking about both ethical and intellectual quandaries.

There is a lot of silence in Owly stories, not only because of the absence of true dialogue. Almost every tale begins with a framed panoramic view of the larger setting. Owly and his friends are often seen eating in silence, awake in bed thinking, quietly assessing their surroundings, setting up, building, or just sitting quietly. All of these moments compel a deeper appreciation for simply being alive and self aware.

The testimony of Simplicity is often expressed. The winning bird bath was rather ostentatious, but in the end the birds preferred Owly and Wormy's more simple design. In the story "Helping Hands", the rabbit drops and breaks a fancy potted plant she has purchased as a gift for her grandfather. Owly and Wormy help her create a new pot with handmade decorations. The rabbit worries that her grandfather will be disappointed by her handmade gift, but after she sheepishly explains what happened, he declares the handmade pot to be better than a whole bunch of fancy store bought ones.

Many associate Quakers with the testimony of Peace, due to their long history of organized war protest and conscientious objection to military service. Violence, both physical and verbal, is so prevalent in popular children's literature and entertainment that it is taken for granted. But in Quaker schools and homes, it is common to ban even toy weapons. At the school where I taught, children were prohibited from excluding others from games. Out of the 12 stories in Tiny Tales, none involve physical violence, and only 2 include the violence of harsh words or aggressive behavior. In both of those, the conflict was resolved through changes in circumstance, kindness, or cooperation, opposed to the "good guys" responding with their own threats.

Another testimony is Stewardship, or reference for nature and conservation of natural resources. The characters in Owly are constantly outdoors, planting and caring for plants and feeding wildlife. Racoon's nursery is is an essential part of many stories. An appreciate for nature has been part of Owly's world from the beginning. In the back of Tiny Tales, Runton writes:

When I was trying to come up with a comic book idea, I tried dragons, aliens, ninjas... but nothing worked. Then one day, I looked closer at my little owl. And I drew this... It kinda summed up what I felt. I wanted to draw comics about this little owl. But I was afraid to be myself. 

Note how Owly doesn't pick the flower. He simply enjoys it, and then draws a picture so as to translate the experience through creative expression and then have a piece of that experience with him in his home.

The best thing about Quaker testimonies is that although they are proscribed by a religious sect, they are ultimately secular and universal to the human experience. It is no surprise for me to discover, in my work at a Quaker school, that many modern-day Quakers, especially on the East Coast, are also atheists and agnostics.

I recently purchased a copy of Owly & Wormy: Friends All Aflutter. This book is a large, hardback, full color 40 page picture book; in other words, an object of value to be cherished. My daughter was thrilled.

The story was in line with the values of the previous volume. In it, Owly and Wormy attempt to attract butterflies with flowers, To their dismay, a couple of caterpillars begin munching away at the plants. Despite their initial upset, Owly and Wormy befriend these invaders and come to prefer their company to the hypothetical butterflies. Soon they are striving to keep the caterpillars comfortable enough to return when they disappear (unbeknownst to Owly and Wormy, the caterpillars never left; they are merely in their chrysalises). Owly's and Wormy's putting kindness and friendship over their desire for superficial beauty is rewarded when their friends emerge, transformed.

Truly these are the values to teach the upcoming generation; the values and actions necessary to live the best life possible, and also build a better world.

May we all learn from the wisdom of owls.

Addendum: On a related note, another stunningly illustrated picture book with owls and which supports the values of nonviolence, quiet contemplation, and appreciation for simplicity and nature is The Happy Owls by Celestino Piatti.

Two Good "Nurture" Books for Skeptical Parents (Or Any Parents, Really)

Like many American parents of my generation, since having kids, one of my main pastimes is reading about the latest in understanding childhood development. This isn't a casual interest. It is a serious undertaking with the goal of developing optimum parenting strategies. Or at least it was.

 The American middle class is shrinking. Good jobs for people without college degrees have largely been shipped overseas, but the rising cost of higher education has way outpaced wage increases. Rising health care expenses have cost many people their homes and retirement savings. Many of my peers are choosing to have less kids or no kids because they don't want to be forced to choose between saving for their children's education and saving for their own retirement.

In short, American parents of my generation are all too aware that we do not live in the economy of our parents. We fear that if current economic trends continue, things will be even worse for our kids. So we're desperately searching for anything that might give our kids an edge.

Like most parents in my demographic, I was reading to my first child before she was even a year old. When she turned three I started her on Suzuki Piano, a pre-ballet class, a phonics program, a Spanish language program, and began doing age-appropriate math exercises on an almost daily basis. One might think I felt like a super-parent, but that was not the case. As a former teacher at a small, independent school, I was aware of progressive theories in early childhood education that insist that workbooks and flashcards are no-nos. I had also been reading about current theories in early childhood education for a college course I was teaching, and these supported the idea that "play is the work of children". As a result I became increasingly anxious that all the piano, ballet, language, and math might eat up too much of the much more valuable play time. I sought a middle ground out of uncertainty.

In January my local secular humanist group's book club read the book The Nurture Assumption: Why Children Turn Out The Way They Do by Judith Rich Harris. Just recently I finished reading NurtureShock: New Thinking About Children by Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman. These books are similar to each other in that they both challenge common assumptions about how to best raise children to be intelligent, moral, confident and capable individuals. Both books are written for the layman, specifically targeted at parents. Both rely on scientific research to support their claims, though they are written by outsiders; Bronson and Merryman are journalists, and Judith Rich Harris had dropped out of graduate school and was writing college textbooks on developmental psychology when she began to form unique conclusions based on comparing the research of others.

What I like best about both of these books is that even though they assert their own conclusions about several aspects of childhood development and the ability of parents to influence children's development, parents would have a difficult time developing any formulaic strategies in response. This is partially because the analysis presented is complex and nuanced. It is also because both books, especially The Nurture Assumption, emphasize the important influence of factors other than parenting.

Scientific studies require narrowing a focus down tight and conducting experiments in very specific context. Therefore it is usually only after many related studies are compared and analyzed over a significant period of time that we can start to see a complete enough picture that allows us to develop effective strategies for achieving specific goals in the real world.

Unfortunately, too often the results of specific studies are reported and people immediately react based on assumptions that go beyond the scope of those studies. For instance, parents read reports about how babies who hear more words develop more extensive vocabularies more quickly, so then those parents begin babbling on in a contrived manner endlessly to their infants and toddlers before they (or the researchers who did the studies) understand the more complex mechanisms behind those results. In NutureShock, the authors explain how the popular series of Baby Einstein videos were developed based on research in childhood development. But because the maker of the videos made false assumptions about what the research meant, the result was a product which achieved the opposite of its intended results. (Babies who watch the videos end up having smaller vocabularies.)

As a parent seeking optimum strategies for giving my kids an edge in an uncertain economy, these books have left me feeling a bit dis-empowered. NurtureShock convinced me that I couldn't trust common wisdom or even my own intuition. And The Nurture Assumption left me thinking that I have basically no control over the values and personalities that my children develop. Yet I feel I'm better for having read them.

Being a skeptic who was raised religious, I've been down a similar path before. I'm at peace with the idea of no cosmic justice or afterlife. In fact, I've now come to a point where I find my secular worldview preferable, not only because I think it is true, but because I find honor in having the courage to face an imperfect universe, and humble awe in viewing life as a precious, fleeting, gratitude-inspiring anomaly. I can, too, come to peace with the idea that my parenting style is but one (perhaps even minuscule) factor, in a complex wave of elements that will influence who my kids become. More than just come to peace with it, I can see how much that takes the pressure off and allows me to more fully enjoy parenting.

My oldest child is now four. She still does Spanish, math, ballet, phonics, and Suzuki piano on a regulated basis (although combined these all take up a relatively small percentage of her time, and stimulating free play time does dominate her waking hours.) I no longer feel so torn and anxious over whether I'm doing the best job I can or not. After a year, these supplemental activities have become an integrated part of her and my lives. They have become simply what we do in our home. It feels right because we both often take pleasure in them, and there is a ordinary give and take going on between mother and daughter.

Once upon a time I made a plan. I had developed a formula because I felt that was necessary. But it's not a formula anymore. Now I'm just being the parent that I am. I see that the approaches I take and choices I make for this child will be somewhat different for her younger sister, because they are different people. If there is an optimum parenting style for raising them, I can't know what it is, so why worry about it?

Life is uncertain. Making choices is complicated. Of course I'm going to keep trying to give my kids an edge in the world in the best ways I know. But most of the time I'll simply enjoy watching them grow up.