Thea's Tree

I dug through my stack of un-read picture books this morning, looking for one that meets the criteria for high school classroom use, and I came upon this treasure: Thea's Tree, written by Alison Jackson and illustrated by Janet Pederson. Seems I'm on a tree kick lately (which is not all that surprising, as I'm getting ready to create a dirt pile in my backyard in preparation for a garden, the center of which will be a bottlebrush tree).

Anyway ... this is an engaging little story about Thea Teawinkle's science project. She plants purple, bean-like seeds in her yard and waits patiently with journal and pen in hand, ready to record what happens.  The results are rapid and shocking.  We readers know from clues scattered throughout the text that she's got Jack's beanstalk taking over her yard, but Thea never arrives at that conclusion. Instead, she embarks on a letter writing campaign, seeking advice from a museum curator, zoologist, horticulturist, acquisitions manager of an arboretum -- and eventually, a banker, conductor, and tree remover. 

One of the criterion of a picture book is that the text and illustrations are of equal importance.  This author and illustrator achieve that balance.  This book would not work without the beanstalk tendrils curling through Thea's windows ... or the expressions on the faces of Thea's "experts" perfectly matching the tone of their letter replies.

Because I teach twelfth grade English, I would use this text as a kick off for our annual research paper, asking students to note Thea's decisions and reactions during the research process.  (She ignores the suggestions of each of the experts she consults and instead makes wild, unsupported guesses as to what's happening in her yard.)  In English classes, the book would also be a superb source for teaching letter writing, adverb use, and alliteration.

But I'm more intrigued with the idea of pulling this out in a science class to discuss the process of formulating hypotheses. Or, better yet, in a European history class -- the story fantastically underpins the necessity of balancing empiricism and logic. I'm imaging Descartes jabbing his finger at Bacon, and saying, "Hah! In your face!"

See why I love picture books?