Introduction

In a generation where technology provides information with a swipe or a click, it is hard to remember the impact of the printed word before the arrival of modern electronic devices. Or for the younger generation, difficult to even imagine. Yet life in the 1930s in Arkansas held little advance of modernity: farming was still largely non-mechanized, yet the livelihood of the state was linked to agricultural production. Class structure was divided, both racially and economically in status. For children growing up in this era, life was often a struggle in scarcity—it was the Depression and times were hard.

Imagine what it must have been like to find a voice in children's literature that seemed to understand life that surrounded you. Instead of stories of cities and adventures beyond the expirence or imagination, the author spoke of simple subsistence living in the Ozark hills, the plight of sharecroppers in the Delta, or life on a riverboat on the White River. Speaking in poetic prose of characters who were fully developed and growing through hardship yet remaining optimistic, the author planted seeds of hope and perseverance in the lives of children across the nation. Children were taught through the example of their heroic yet ordinary characters—characters who looked a lot like them—that life had potential for happiness and success despite present circumstances. Once a year, Arkansas children grew to expect a new adventure, meeting new friends, learning life lessons vicariously through their experiences. An attitude of acceptance replaced socioeconomic judgment as the pages turned; understanding confronted prejudice. Social stigmas that existed at the time were seen from the eyes of the marginalized; the unpainted houses were entered instead of occupants remaining ignored—or even excluded. Children living in those houses found a non-judgmental friend when libraries added these titles. At the same time, children who lived in white painted houses were given an opportunity to explore and question their systemic prejudice—also through the pen of a non-judgmental friend who gently pushed for awareness.

For this reason, Charlie May Simon deserves a second look by this current generation, almost a century removed from the start of her literary career. Her writing voice influenced the lives of children for 50 years—a feat itself worth noting. But beyond the 29 books she painstakingly penned, few people realize her life demonstrated perseverance in times of hardship, embracing the impossible against incredibly difficult odds. When life delivered its blows, Charlie May used it as creative fuel, refusing to be defeated. Her life impersonated the heroes she eloquently described in her books. Considering the era of her writing, beginning after the right to vote was granted women but before civil rights and the second wave feminist movement, it is no wonder that her voice was suppressed and marginalized. What is a wonder, however, is the fact that each spring Arkansas children vote for their favorite new titles in literature, yet know little of the woman whose name and face designate the award. Open the door of modern technology and meet Charlie May Simon—this generation still needs to hear her voice.