Has the American Dream evolved?

The cows and chickens have the answer

Few things scream “civics” like a federal holiday. As we head into Labor Day Weekend, the universe gifted me with the most magical way to craft a Labor Day post that’s less Associated Press and more

Zibby Owens

-inspired.

Here’s where it started.

In pursuit of my daily manifesto that civics and emotional intelligence are inextricably linked, one day I stumbled upon a picture book that did all the heavy lifting for me.

There are very few kids books I can happily read over and over, though to be fair, I’m not generally a re-reader. My own favorite books have all been read but once.

Until CLICK CLACK MOO.

There was a good stretch where Gus would run around the house chirping click clack moooooo and at the risk of sounding sappy, it was like music.

In my world, the Caldecott-winning Click, Clack, Moo, Cows that Type is very much a modern classic that ages like a fine Brunello.

AND SO, you can imagine the serendipity of getting to “interview” Doreen Cronin about writing Click Clack Moo — a veritable treatise that unearths the social-emotional underpinnings of collective bargaining — a week before Labor Day.

A few months ago, even getting on Doreen’s radar felt like a pipe dream. But not only did I dream it into being — the timing just couldn’t have been more perfect.

In all seriousness, talking to someone like Doreen any day of the week is like a drug for me. She wrote this furiously funny, deadpan book that parents and teachers can (and have!) turned to for so many life lessons, went on to write dozens more books and somehow makes you feel like you’re catching up with an old friend who just happened to write your favorite kids’ book.

In a past life, Doreen was a lawyer, and before that, she worked as a legal assistant for a labor firm. But when she wrote Click Clack Moo, she didn’t set out to write a book about labor — she wanted to tell a story about the power of literacy (hence cows finding an old typewriter, learning to type and communicating their need for warmth).

Not even after her then-husband jokingly accused her of being a socialist (I lol’d) did she realize the cows and chickens might have a bigger story to tell.

In fact — it wasn’t until the AFL-CIO (the voice of America’s labor unions) invited her to do an author reading at a retreat for union members that she realized: maybe she WAS a socialist! (I’m kidding, she did not say that. But the author gig at the AFL-CIO retreat did happen.)

I know that for some people, unions are a loaded concept. In Hollywood, unions are powerful. They empower artists with a sense of value. They make sure that working conditions are fair. By nature, they’re anti-predatory, in a town that is filled with opportunistic people who are routinely given second, third and fourth chances.

As I was thinking about how to tie all of this together — “this” being my love of cows that stand up for their basic needs, alert the chickens that they have a right to be warm too, and challenge the belief that one animal has more of a right to comfort than another — Doreen tied it together for me.

To paraphrase from Doreen’s words, taking care of one another is the power that we all have. It doesn’t matter if you’re in preschool or mid-career; being able to recognize our own needs, advocate for them, and then looking around and realizing that we’re all better off when basic needs are met, is ageless. And when we use our power together? That’s the world we want our kids to live in. The cows had more power than the chickens (as Doreen points out, Farmer Brown is a dairy farmer, so ostensibly, eggs are secondary to milk) and they used their power for good. But first, they had to find their own voice and help themselves.

We’re all emerging from 4 years of a pandemic where for a moment in time, a nightly ritual was to clap and bang pans from the windows in appreciation for essential workers. That’s the vibe I’m bringing into this Labor Day Weekend. I might even show Gus a video or two of banging pots, because he’ll get it. And no matter how old or young your children are, I hope you’ll pick up a copy of Click Clack Moo.

More soon,

Sarah