"Why are they always white children?"

Many of you will recognize the title as the question asked by a five-year-old Black child at the beginning of Nancy Larrick's 1965 article, “The All-White World of Children’s Books.” While Larrick addressed other populations, she wrote her article primarily about the state of publishing for Black children. The term “Hispanic” hadn’t come on the scene yet, much less the word “Latino.”¹ In 1965, we were all still thought of as “Spanish.” Perhaps at times we were lumped into the categories of Puerto Rican or Mexican, depending on where in the country you lived and which cultural group non-Latinos were exposed to. The U.S. Census didn’t even recognize us, making no real concerted effort at keeping statistics on Hispanics until 1980.

According the 2012 Census Population Estimates, there are 53 million Hispanics in the United States. This is 17% of the nation’s total population. Hispanics made up almost half of the entire population growth in the U.S. between July 2011 and July 2012. As of 2009, there were 16 million Hispanic children in the United States. That’s 22%, almost a quarter, of all children in the U.S.² Last June, in light of these numbers, NPR aired a story titled “As Demographics Shift, Kids' Books Stay Stubbornly White."

I can do easy math. That’s forty-eight years between these two stories. We have to imagine that the demographics have changed significantly in the time period between these two stories, right? Yet, in forty-eight years not a whole lot has changed. It’s like deja vu all over again. Same story, different title. Do Latinos even make up 17% of the characters in children’s books? In any books published in the United States, period? How can we be millions and growing and be practically invisible in all forms of media, including books?

This past year I had the opportunity to serve on the 2014 Pura Belpré Award Committee. To say that it was the greatest honor of my professional career and up there with the most rewarding experiences of my life is an understatement. I can’t express how much the entire experience meant to me. To honor writers and illustrators who are putting our faces, our kids, into books is special. Books matter. Rudine Sims Bishop³ said it best when she compared the experience of reading to looking through a window, stepping through a sliding glass door or looking into a mirror. We look to books to take us to new places, to meet new people, to have new experiences. Yes. But we also look to books to find ourselves. To see yourself, your life experience, a face or name like yours in a book means something. I’m an adult who didn’t experience this as a child, and I still get goosebumps when I see a character that resembles me in a book. It legitimizes your place wherever you are. If you don’t understand this, if you can’t empathize with someone’s need for this sense of recognition, it’s because you have the privilege to not understand or care. 

This issue isn’t just about us and our children, it’s about you and your children too. As Professor Bishop wrote, “Children from dominant social groups have always found their mirrors in books, but they, too, have suffered from the lack of availability of books about others. They need the books as windows into reality, not just on imaginary worlds. They need books that will help them understand the multicultural nature of the world we live in, and their place as a member of just one group, as well as their connections to all other humans.”⁴ Despite the diversity of the United States there are many pockets of this country in which populations continue to be segregated with little exposure to anyone not of their own racial or cultural background. Children living in one of the most diverse countries in the world need to be exposed to people who are not like them. Otherwise they grow up to be the kind of person that freaks out when Coca Cola airs a commercial during the Super Bowl in which “America the Beautiful” is sung in languages other than English.⁵ ¡Qué horror!

Lest you think I’m exaggerating about the lack of children’s books by and about Latinos (after all, Dora the Explorer is still all over the place, right) consider this. Last year, Lee and Low, publishers of multicultural books for children and young adults, created an infographic using publishing information gathered by the Cooperative Children’s Book Center of the University of Wisconsin’s School of Education.⁶ In the image we see eighteen years of children’s books by and / or about people of color.⁷ Sometimes it takes a picture to really break it down for you. That’s what this image does. They might as well have created it using a cardiac monitor. It looks like the publishing of children’s books by and about Latinos has flat-lined. Dead. Ten percent of children’s books published since 1994 contain “multicultural content.” This doesn’t even tell us what percentage of that (1) contained content about Latinos, (2) contained accurate content about Latinos, or (3) if the Latino content was a significant part of a book.

So, the questions remain, how do we change this? What can we do? Obviously, it’s a problem that is multifaceted and larger than any one person or group. There are two big issues we face: (1) How do we increase the number of children’s books by and about Latinos in publication and circulation? (2) How do we give more exposure to the many wonderful books that exist? I’m going to attempt to address as many players as possible here. Come on, people! It takes a village to help Latino children’s books come to life and thrive!

Publishers: If you have a book by a Latino in your catalog and you are attending the biggest librarian conference in all the land, bring copies and come ready to sell it. Sell it like you would the next great dystopian YA novel. You know, the one you brought boxes of? Also, if you have one Latino author or illustrator (because that’s about all most publishers have) chances are good that the title will be considered for the Pura Belpré Award. If that’s the case, then come to Midwinter prepared. Have your Belpré medal stickers...just in case! Have copies of the book to display and to sell. Be ready and willing to celebrate that book if it happens to win a Belpré just as you would if you had a Newbery or Caldecott winner. The Belpré Award is just as significant an honor. Don’t let it fall off your radar! Send books that meet the criteria to the committee for consideration! Keep our award-winners in print!

On a different note, when Latino writers and illustrators submit manuscripts for publication consideration and they don’t stand up to your requirements, needs, tastes, please take the time to tell them why not. I know this is a lot to ask of a company that has a handful of editors and receives hundreds (thousands?) of manuscripts a year, but if you recognize the need for more accurate multicultural books and you care about being an ally, an occasional response would be helpful. When you do publish books that feature Latinos, please publish books that are accurate and well-written, that don't stereotype and that show the great diversity of our cultures.

Education administrators and policy makers: Please don’t kill our school libraries! Our children, all of our children, need them. For some children, the school library is their only exposure to libraries. We are not all fortunate enough to grow up in a household in which reading and books are celebrated and encouraged. We need our school librarians. Also, if we’re going to live and die by the Common Core, make it inclusive of literature by and about many different cultures and racial groups.

Librarians: Librarianship is still predominantly a white female profession. We don’t expect you to necessarily understand our experiences. However, as proponents of the freedom to read and of diverse views, we do expect you to open your mind. Push beyond your comfort zone and your scope of knowledge and experience. Seek out and promote books that recognize all of us. Analyze books for accuracy and, when needed, seek out the help of individuals who are knowledgeable of ethnic and racial groups so that you are promoting the best the publishing world has to offer. Promote books about children of all racial and ethnic groups year-round, not just on the designated celebratory “month.”⁸

Teachers of art and writing: Promote writing and illustrating for children’s books as a career possibility to your Latino students. It might not ever dawn on them that this is an option. Put it out there so that we can begin to cultivate a new generation of writers and illustrators.

Latino writers and illustrators: Write what you know, but also stay connected to the interests and needs of children today. We need more books about all kinds of topics, about Latino kids living all kinds of experiences.

The New York Times and other media: Follow up. While we appreciate the occasional story on the lack of diverse children's books, we need more than that. If you write a story about the dearth of children’s books by and about Latinos⁹ don’t then completely neglect to mention the Belpré Award winners in an article about the Newbery Award, an article in which you only mention three other ALA Youth Media Awards, none of them being those that celebrate diversity.¹⁰ This year the Pura Belpré Award committee honored seven books written by and about Latinos. That's seven books to review and promote! Seven authors and illustrators to interview and feature in your pages!

Look at any newspaper or online news Website these days and it seems that the more diverse our society becomes, the more we pedal backwards in our acceptance of differences. We cling to our uninformed beliefs about people. We view anyone we don’t have contact with or knowledge of beyond distorted media representations as not being real. Just look at the controversy over racist mascots. Is this the kind of future we want our children to grow up into? 

If the emotional appeal doesn’t work, then how about more statistics? People like statistics. Statistics offer concrete proof and support for arguments. They tell us where to put our money, how to invest, who to woo. How’s this for a statistic: The Census projects that by 2060 there will be 128.8 million Hispanics in the United States. This group will make up 31% of the total population. That’s about a third of the population. We’ll be in your schools and in your neighborhoods even more than we are now. We’ll be in parts of this country no one ever imagined Latinos would be found. And, for those who worship the almighty dollar, we’ll be a third of your consumer power.

---

^{1. ["Hispanic" was the term used in the 1980 and 1990 Census. "Latino" was introduced with the 2000 Census.]↩ 2. [Statistics from the U.S. Census Bureau's Profile America Facts for Features: Hispanic Heritage Month 2013]↩ 3. [I was sitting two rows behind her at the ALA Youth Media Awards announcements, and when she stood up when the Coretta Scott King Awards Committee was recognized I almost freaked out like a big nerd.]↩ 4. [Bishop, Rudine Sims. "Multicultural Literacy: Mirrors, Window, and Sliding Glass Doors." First published in 1990.]↩ 5. ["Coca-Cola 'America the Beautiful' Super Bowl Ad Celebrate Diversity, Twitter Racists Explode."]↩ 6. ["The Diversity Gap in Children's Books, 18 years."]↩ 7. [I know, I know. Some of us don't like to be referred to as "people of color."]↩ 8. [September 15 - October 15? What is this? We don't even warrant an actual month?]↩ 9. [Rich, Motoko. "For Young Latino Readers, an Image Is Missing." The New York Times, 4 Dec. 2012.]↩ 10. [Bosman, Julie. "Take of Magical Squirrel Takes Newbery Medal." The New York Times, 27 Jan. 2014.]↩}

Bless Me, Ultima

I had so much to write about Rudolfo Anaya's Bless Me, Ultima. Really! Just take a look at my copy that is not only long overdue (eep!) but is covered in those little sticky tabs and dog-eared where I didn't have sticky tabs handy. Unfortunately, it's taken me some time to get around to writing this entry so a lot of what I wanted to say has slipped my mind. That happens to me sometimes. I'd never read this classic of Chicano literature but the fact that we are both celebrating the same birthday this year (does that make me a classic too?) and its place on the lengthy list of books that were part of the now defunct Mexican American Studies curriculum in Arizona prompted me to pick up finally pick up a copy. It did not disappoint. And again, I was left wondering why none of my honor and AP English teachers ever introduced me to this book.

Bless Me, Ultima is the coming-of-age story of Antonio Marez, a young New Mexican boy. The story is set at the end of World War II and spans about three years of the child's life beginning with the arrival of Ultima, the well-known curandera and family friend who movies in with Antonio's family. While the story is primarily Antonio's, the boy's coming-of-age is also symbolic of, in a sense, the transitions his own family and surroundings are going through. Ultima's arrival poses the potential for upheaval in the family structure, but in reality, she serves as the anchor and the last link to a past--a culture and a way of life--that is quickly changing.

The story is told from Antonio's point of view, a child between the ages of about seven to about ten, and yet the it feels like it could be a teenager or even an adult. His struggles and fears have the potential to resonate with all because they are so typically human, those enduring issues that make up life no matter what your age--faith, good versus evil, change. Antonio reminds me of what it was like to be a child so full of questions and wonder and fear. We witness the experience of being a Mexican American child, not able to speak English, in a classroom of White children.

"At noon we opened our lunches to eat. Miss Maestas left the room and a high school girl came and sat at the desk while we ate. My mother had packed a small jar of hot beans and some good, green chile wrapped in tortillas. When the other children saw my lunch they laughed and pointed again. Even the high school girl laughed. They showed me their sandwiches which were made of bread. Again I did not feel well."

And at the end of his first school day:

"The pain and sadness seemed to spread to my soul, and I felt for the first time what the grown-ups call, la tristesa de la vida. I wanted to run away, to hid, to run and never come back, never see anyone again."

But along with this sadness we also see the comfort of family and community:

"We always enjoyed our stay at El Puerto. It was a world where people were happy, working, helping each other. The ripeness of the harvest piled around the mud houses and lent life and color to the songs of the women. Green chile was roasted and dried, and red chile was tied into colorful ristras. Apples piled high, some lent their aroma to the air from where they dried in th sun on the lean-to roofs and others as they bubbled into jellies and jams. At night we sat around the fireplace and ate baked apples spiced with sugar and cinnamon and listened to the cuentos, the old stories of the people."

Bless Me, Ultima was National Endowment for the Arts Big Read selection, an honor that recognizes its deserved place in American literature. Despite being focusing on a very specific community, it tells the story of the kinds of changes people throughout the country were experiencing--the effects of war on family, the loss of old ways to new ways. Here we see these changes from the eyes of a child who is also dealing with growing up. I think about this book in the context of its subject matter and the time in which it was published, and I feel grateful that it has endured.

Speaking of Awards, or Christmas in July

Over the past two years, I have been working toward a Certificate of Advanced Study (CAS) at the University of Illinois' Graduate School of Library and Information Science (GSLIS). As my time in the program comes to an end I thought it a good time to post one of the most fulfilling projects I had the opportunity to work on. As a student in LIS514: History of Children's Literature course I was required to create a Website in which I provided a study of a historical text. I selected Marie Hall Ets' Nine Days to Christmas, the 1960 Caldecott Medal winner. I had the honor of traveling to the University of Minnesota and spending a day going through the Marie Hall Ets papers in the Kerlan Collection. Among the items in their possession was Ets' Caldecott medal, an item that is breathtakingly beautiful. But not to get so easily lulled by that lovely medal in its soft, midnight blue velvet box, the most interesting insights about the project were not so much about the book itself, but about the Caldecott award in the context of Latino children's literature:

* Only two Caldecott medal winning books prominently feature children of Latin American heritage: Leo Politi's Song of the Swallows (1950) and Marie Hall Ets' Nine Days to Christmas (1960).

* Only one Latino illustrator has ever won the Caldecott Medal: David Diaz for Smoky Night (1995).

* Only two Caldecott honor books have prominently featured children of Latin American heritage: Leo Politi's Juanita (1949) and Pedro, the Angel of Olvera Street (1947).

I may have overlooked titles, but I don't think I did. Four medal or honor winners featuring children of Latin American descent, all published before 1960, in the past seventy-four years. And we're not even going to get into how accurately or inaccurately those books represent the specific group and culture depicted. One Latino illustrator awarded either a medal or an honor in the seventy-four year history of the award.

If you look at seventy-four years worth of Caldecott winners you're looking at a pretty homogenous world. Of course, I realize that the Caldecott isn't awarded for how well a book represents our multicultural society. It's awarded to the "most distinguished American picture book for children." There have been so many amazing Latino children's book illustrators to come around since 1995 that it's hard not to wonder why not a single one has been honored. This brings to mind the controversial topic that makes the occasional appearance in the pages of the Horn Book Magazine regarding the need for awards like the Pura Belpré and the Coretta Scott King.* Do we still need them? Would these books find a place in the world of Caldecott? Or would they simply disappear? Yeah, I'm calling you out Caldecott, on this, your seventy-fifth year.

*See Marc Aronson's "Slippery Slopes and Proliferating Prizes" in the May/June 2001 issue of the Horn Book Magazine and Nikki Grimes' "Speaking Out" in the July/August 2009 issue.

Maximilian & the Mystery of the Guardian Angel

Maximilian & the Mystery of the Guardian Angel: A Bilingual Lucha Libre Thriller. Written and illustrated by Xavier Garza; Spanish Translation by Luis Humberto Crosthwaite and Carla Gonzalez Campos; El Paso, TX: Cinco Puntos Press, 2011. Ages 8 - 12.


When I was in junior high I was a professional wrestling FANATIC. I do not use all caps lightly so believe the intensity with which I loved my wrestling. I read the magazines. I watched about nine hours of wrestling every weekend, from the big organizations like the N.W.A. and the WWF to the smaller wrestling organizations based out of Texas and Florida. I even attended a live professional wrestling event where I managed to get the autograph of my very favorite wrestler at the time Kevin Von Erich. Yes, I still have that autographed picture in my possession. But even before that, as a child, I watched movies that featured the masked wrestler known as Mil Mascaras--One Thousand Masks! His movies took place in a world of Mexican villains and heroes, something I didn't see too much of in the American wrestling of my junior high years. 

Imagine my surprise when I first came across the work of Xavier Garza several years ago. His picture book Lucha Libre: The Man in the Silver Mask was not only like a blast from the past, but such a breath of fresh air in the world of children's books. From the red end pages covered in images of masked wrestlers and stars and into the story of a little boy who attends a lucha libre event for the very first time and ends up having an ever bigger adventure than anticipated, Garza managed to create a book for younger readers that is action packed, pitting the good forces of wrestling versus the evil, as well as a colorful feast for the eyes. Who can resist getting caught up in the excitement and cheering on the technicos (good guys)?


Now Garza has done it again. In Maximilian and the Mystery of the Guardian Angel Xavier Garza has created a unique middle grade novel that pays homage to the Mexican tradition of masked wrestlers. Maximilian is a fan of lucha libre and especially of the Mexican luchador known as the Guardian Angel, one of the technicos who fights rudos (bad guys) like Vampire Velasquez and Diablo Rojo. One day he has the good fortune to attend a wrestling event featuring the Guardian Angel in his hometown of San Antonio. Like Carlitos in Lucha Libre, Maximilian unexpectedly finds himself in the middle of real life wrestling drama! 


One of the enduring mysteries of masked wrestlers is, of course, that of identity. Who is it beneath that mask? There is speculation, but not until a face is revealed does one truly know.  There is the neighbor who is convinced that under the Guardian Angel's mask is Pedro Infante, the Mexican singer and actor who died in a plane crash in 1957. But it is Maximilian (or Max, as he prefers to be called) who is about to set his eyes on who lives under those flamboyant masks, to learn family secrets, and in the process, to discover a little more about himself. 


When I think of words that describe this book I see them inside the kind of "bubbles" used to highlight action in comic books:  Exciting! Fun! Suspenseful! Pow! With his illustration style that has a sort of old school comic book aesthetic to it, I could see this as a comic book series and as the type of book that would appeal to readers of action or superhero comics. Garza draws from Mexican culture as well as that of his native San Antonio, like the legend of Donkey Lady Bridge, and weaves these elements into his story and his illustrations. 


The book, as mentioned in the subtitle, is bilingual. Spanish text is laid out parallel to the English. We don't often see middle grade novels that are bilingual and that include male Latino protagonists. Garza and Cinco Puntos Press have really outdone themselves in hitting on all of these areas that are lacking in the world of children's books. Fortunately, the Pura Belpre Award committee thought so too as the book was selected a 2012 author honor book. Here's to more books like this in the near future!

New Day Rising! Pura Belpre 2012

Bright and early this morning the American Library Association announced its 2012 youth media award winners. So many great books for kids. And yes, the anticipation of hearing those last two awards--the Newbery and the Caldecott--put my morning run on hold until it was all over. But most exciting of all was, of course, the Pura Belpre announcements!

The Illustrator Award went to Duncan Tonatiuh for Diego Rivera: His World and Ours

Illustrator honors went to The Cazuela That the Farm Maiden Stirred illustrated by Rafael Lopez and written by Samantha R. Vamos, and Marisol McDonald Doesn't Match / Marisol McDonald No Combina illustrated by Sara Palacios and written by Monica Brown.

I don't want to say that I knew it, but I knew it. When I read Guadalupe Garcia McCall's Under the Mesquite I immediately thought Pura Belpre winner. And so it is!

The Author Award went to Guadalupe Garcia McCall for Under the Mesquite

The Pura Belpre committee awarded author honors to Margarita Engle for Hurricane Dancers: The First Caribbean Pirate Shipwreck, and to Xavier Garza for Maximillian and the Mystery of the Guardian Angel: A Bilingual Lucha Libre Thriller. I loved Garza's Lucha Libre: The Man in the Silver Mask and having grown up watching Mil Mascaras movies and a HUGE professional wrestling fan I am definitely looking forward to reading his latest book.

 

An Island Like You: Stories of the Barrio

An Island Like You: Stories of the Barrio by Judith Ortiz Cofer. New York: Puffin Books, 1995.

It seems fitting that the first Pura Belpre Award winner in the narrative category is by Judith Ortiz Cofer who, like Belpre, is a native of Puerto Rico. Cofer came to the United States at a young age and, like the characters in the stories that make up An Island Like You, grew up in Paterson, New Jersey. This collection of stories features Puerto Rican-American teens growing up teetering that all-too-familiar line between cultures. In addition to the cultural divide between the children and their parents, socio-economic and racial divisions, provide conflict throughout the stories. 

While twelve separate short stories, characters reappear throughout giving each distinct person an opportunity to share his or her voice. Each character is a study in adolescence with all its complexities and its ups and downs. The reviled bully of one story becomes the heartbreaking hero of another. The bad girl who draws little sympathy in one story mourns her father in another. Cofer created multidimensional characters that are more than just one thing or another. Weaving them throughout each other’s stories allows the reader to see them in different lights, to understand how they relate to one another, and to discover the sources of their pain and inner conflict, proving that there is often more than meets the eye. Cofer’s characters are diverse in personalities, interests, and appearances, breaking the stereotypes that often come with Latino, and in this case specifically Puerto Rican, characters in the media. You get the punk, the beauty, the ugly duckling, the brain, and more. Their cultural background makes them different in some ways, and yet, as teenagers they belong to a distinct culture of sorts that has nothing to do with differences in language or appearance. One of the most interesting features is the fact that many of the characters are not fluent in Spanish, perhaps one of the reasons why many of them struggle with conforming to the world in which their parents are trying to raise them, one in which they attempt to insert the culture, religion and ways of their own childhoods into a completely different time and place. One of my favorite passages that illustrates these clashing worlds is from “Home to El Building:”

Anita walks slowly past the familiar sights: shops, bodegas, and bars of the street where she’s lived all her life, feeling like she’s saying adios, and good riddance to it all. Her destination is the future. She is walking toward love. But first she has to get past her life that’s contained by this block. The barrio is like an alternate universe. That’s what they call it on Star Trek when the crew of the starship Enterprise find themselves in another world that may look like Earth, but where the natives have history turned around, and none of the usual rules apply. In these streets, on this block, people speak in Spanish, even though they’re in the middle of New Jersey; they eat fruits and vegetables that grow only in a tropical country; and they (Anita is thinking of her parents now) try to make their children behave like they were living in another century....

Having grown up in the alternate universe that was my Miami neighborhood, I know exactly what Anita is talking about, as will many other young reader growing up with similar experiences.

While there are no specific pop cultural references, some of the stories do have a somewhat dated tone. The story “White Balloons,” in which the neighborhood teens rally to help out a gay man who grew up on the barrio and returns, sick with AIDS, to fulfill a dream before he dies, feels like it comes from a very specific period in the past. I am not so deluded to think that uninformed and backward attitudes towards homosexuality and AIDS have changed drastically, but these have changed to some extent in the past couple of decades, which makes the story feel very early-to-mid-1990s. 

Not sure how often this book is assigned as high school or college reading. It was assigned in a recent class I took on books and other material for young adults. I have to wonder if this is a testament to its ability to stand the test of time or if there has been no other work of Latino-focused YA published since 1995 worthy of inclusion on the reading list of a YA literature course. Nevertheless, it is a classic of Latino youth literature. The struggle to find one's place will resonate with teens regardless of racial or cultural background.

Pura Belpre Reading Challenge

This summer I had the pleasure of attending the Pura Belpré Award ceremony during the ALA (American Library Association) conference in New Orleans. I had no idea how inspiring it would be to listen to the speeches given by the amazing writers and illustrators being honored for their positive portrayal of Latinos in youth literature.  

The medals. So pretty! I really should not be allowed so close to award medals.

Being the fifteenth year of the award, the posters given out featured Carmen Lomas Garza's Quinceañera. Each table also featured one of the award winning books as its centerpiece. This one shows Amy Novesky's Me, Frida whose illustrator, David Diaz, won an illustrator honor.

The programs featured the art work of Eric Velasquez, who won the illustrator medal for his book Grandma's Gift

Oralia Garza de Cortés and Sandra Rios Balderrama, the ladies who started it all, escorting the symbolic quinceañera.

Recently I was thinking that I should read all the Pura Belpré books. There are a lot of Newbery reading challenges online, where readers challenge themselves to read all the Newbery winners. Why not a Pura Belpré challenge? So the goal for the next year is to read as many of the Belpré medal and honor books in both categories awarded. Won’t you join me? 

I’ve thought about doing this in some kind of order--oldest to current or the reverse. It just so happens that I’ve read three of the books honored in 1996, the first year the award was given, so I’m starting with 1996. However, I don’t necessarily plan to stick to reading the books chronologically as I’m currently reading Pam Muñoz Ryan’s The Dreamer, the 2011 winner for narrative. 

Some interesting facts about the Belpré award that you may not already know: 

• The Pura Belpré medal is awarded to a Latino or Latina writer and illustrator “whose work best portrays, affirms, and celebrates the Latino cultural experience in an outstanding work of literature for children and youth.”

• The award is named for Pura Belpré (1899-1982), a Puerto Rican born author and storyteller who was the first Latina librarian at the New York Public Library. While at the NYPL she advocated for library services, including bilingual story time, to the growing Latino population in the city.

• Pura Belpré wrote a number of children’s books that drew from her own cultural background, retelling the folk tales of Perez and Martina and of Juan Bobo.

• The Pura Belpré Award is a joint award given by the Association for Library Service to Children (ALSC), a division of the American Library Association, and REFORMA, the National Association to Promote Library and Information Services to Latinos and the Spanish Speaking.

• The Award, which is given in the categories of narrative and illustration, was first given in 1996. It was awarded every two years until 2008 after which it became an annual award.   

There is a complete list of the Pura Belpré Award winners and honor books on the award's Webpage. If you're interested in reading more about Pura Belpré or the history of the award and its winners, check out these resources:

The Pura Belpré Awards: Celebrating Latino Authors and Illustrators. Edited by Rose Zertuche Treviño. Chicago: American Library Association, 2006.

The Storyteller's Candle / La Velita de los Cuentos. Written by Lucía González; Illustrated by Lulu Delacre. San Francisco: Children's Book Press, 2008.