“Knowing Where Our Roots Are”: A Review of Tell Me a Story, Babushka, by Carola Schmidt

 

 Illustrated by Vinicius Melo. (2019; Facebook: @MyLovelyBabushka). ISBN: 9788592062729.

Beautifully illustrated, with a strong sense of culture and family, Carola Schmidt’s wonderful children’s book gives us a glimpse into life for those in pre-independence Russia under the soviet communist party (the author chooses not to capitalize the scp, and I shall honor her choice).

A few things to know. Babushka is Ukrainian for “little Baba” and “Baba” means Grandmother. Like many Europeans (my family’s from Sicily and southern Italy), I have experienced the primary role of grandmothers in the family. Both of my grandmothers were very strong women who dealt with countless adversities—immigrating to America, helping their families with their businesses in New Jersey, suffering losses during World War II and Vietnam, raising children, taking care of their parents, and often managing the money and, of course, cooking enough delicious food for three times the amount of people present on holidays and for Sunday dinners.

Given this connection, I was immediately fond of Babushka, with her squat body and grey hair (again like my grandmothers) and her baby blue headscarf.

Babushka’s conversation partner is her granddaughter Karina, who, as the title tells us, asks her grandmother to tell her a story while they are making bread. When Babushka asks if Karina wants to hear a story about a princess, Karina agrees, asking her grandmother to also include some monsters.

Babushka tells a story of a poor little girl in Ukraine who was “rich of soul.” She describes her cottage, and her happy life.

Until the monsters arrive.

The monsters are Russian soldiers, who took so much grain that the people became sick, many dying of starvation [a period of history known in Ukraine as the Holodomor, derived from the Ukrainian words for hunger (holod) and plague (mor)].

Vinicius Melo’s illustrations use vastly different techniques and color palettes to differentiate between past and present, happy and oppressed, safe and in danger. Educators are using children’s books to introduce young people to art and how illustrations help to tell the story with increasing frequency and, if you are a K­–2 teacher, I highly recommend this book (as well as its sequel, which I’m reviewing soon).

Similar to Anne Frank at the hands of the Nazis, the young girl in the story hides, but is found, and she and her family are sent to a camp in Siberia.

I have no intention of giving away the details of how Babushka escaped from Siberia and wound up in America (it’s quite the engaging adventure), although I will say it involves a set of nesting dolls, or matryoshka.

With the ongoing, and perhaps escalating, relationship between Russia and America—which has been complex and in many ways has dictated the direction of world history post–World War II, centered on the Cold War—it is important to know what atrocities the Russians committed against the countries under their hammer and sickle for most of the twentieth century.

Which should, of course, serve as a comparison to the equal amount of atrocities committed against the Native Americans and Africans during colonization, Westward Expansion, and Manifest Destiny in America by robber barons, U.S. presidents, and their (monster) armies.

It is equally important to learn about the countries of the former soviet union (Ukraine declared its independence in 1991) and how they struggled for decades to find economic and social stability during their inspiring transitions.

Finally, we could all use more stories in our lives about grandmothers, who often carry the weight when we cannot, and love with hearts as big as the countries from which they come.