Jeanie Phillips is a newly hired senior associate at the Great Schools Partnership. We’re proud to share her first blog for our organization.
One of the most powerful frameworks I used in my career as a librarian is Rudine Sims Bishop’s Mirrors, Windows, and Sliding Glass Doors. Books are mirrors when readers see their own lives reflected in the pages. Books are windows when they allow readers a view of lives and stories that are different from their own. Books become sliding glass doors when readers feel transported into the world of the story and when they feel empathy for the characters.
Librarians and educators have been using Sims Bishop’s metaphor to critique the publishing industry for the lack of authentic diversity in children’s literature. Students who are Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC) are significantly less likely to encounter books in our school libraries and curriculum that feature characters that reflect their racial identity. The books they have access to are largely windows into a world of predominantly white characters—or of animals. In fact, 27% of children’s books published in 2018 featured animals as main characters—more than books featuring all non-white characters combined. White students, on the other hand, are likely to engage with more mirror books than window books. It is quite possible for white students to go most of their K-12 career reading mostly books about people who share their racial identity.
This problem is a problem for all students, including white students. Seeing your culture reflected in literature is a motivating force for all learners; it also helps you imagine your own place in the world. When BIPOC students only read books that are windows and white students only read books that are mirrors, all students see an inaccurate representation of the world. White students also have fewer opportunities to learn about or empathize with others who are different than themselves. We live in a diverse democracy and our young people, even in homogenous communities, can experience that diversity in the pages of books. They can learn to value diverse perspectives through literature.
Many librarians use this framework to thoughtfully examine their collection development practices, but it can also be applied in other contexts.
A Personal Re-framing
Personally, this framework has transformed my life. Fifteen years ago, it inspired me to consider my own reading life. I realized that I predominantly read mirror books—books written by and about white people. I set a goal for myself: at least 50% of the books I read would be written by people of color. And I’ve met this goal year after year. What started as something to work on quickly became a habit. And it was in no way a hardship. There are so many amazing writers out there that I hadn’t been exposed to. I am a better person for stepping into the shoes of all kinds of characters who don’t share my racial identity. My horizons have been expanded in all kinds of ways. Now, I seek out art, music, media, and history from diverse perspectives—and I would have missed all of this genius if I hadn’t paid attention.
Windows for Educators
Librarians often read young adult and children’s literature (mostly in their free time!) so that they know their collections well and can advise learners and teachers. I loved this part of the job—connecting with readers about books. Nothing is more rewarding than gushing over a great book with a student and having them ask you for help finding another one as good. But there is another reason to read books for and about young people: they serve as windows for adults. Stepping into the shoes of a student through literature can be a powerful experience. Ann Braden’s middle grades novel The Benefits of Being an Octopus is one such example:
Around me everyone moves in a flurry, clearing off their desks to leave only their beautiful, filled-out, remembered packets…Ms. Rochambeau raises her eyebrows when she gets to me. Not in a “how clever to ball up like a bag of chips” way, but in that “you have disappointed me with your being” way that teachers are so good at. She shakes her head as she writes my zero in her gradebook. “Sometime, Zoey, I hope you surprise me” (37-38).
Zoey did her homework. She also got her much younger siblings up, fed, and ready for school. In the flurry of getting them to the bus stop on time, she forgot her debate packet. And yet, her teacher labeled her “irresponsible” without asking why she didn’t have her homework on her desk. Reading this book made me pause and consider the times I had judged a student without knowing more about their life. It continues to remind me to consider their experiences outside of school, and to do better. This book, like many books, served as a sliding glass door, allowing me to empathize with young people like my students and to use that empathy to become a more responsive educator.
Beyond Books: Curriculum as Windows
I’ve also used the windows, mirrors, and sliding glass doors framework with educators to examine their curricula. Who is reflected in your curriculum? Who isn’t? How might you ensure that all students see themselves represented in your classroom? History, science, math, health, music, drama—any content area can all be examined using this lens. The first step is to take an honest look at the curriculum to determine who is represented and who isn’t. Only then can educators remedy omissions and lack of representation.
A Professional Reframing
I’ve been using the mirrors, windows, and sliding glass doors framework for years. Imagine my surprise when it snuck up on me! Gholdy Muhammad’s Cultivating Genius: An Equity Framework for Culturally and Historically Responsive Literacy is built on the contributions of Black education scholars. Reading it shifted a paradigm and made me wonder, how many educators are still being trained the way I was—with a firm grounding in white scholars like Piaget and Vygotsky, Montessori and Dewey? Are they also learning from Gloria Ladson Billings and Luis Moll, Django Paris and Samy Alim (to name just a few)? And what are the implications if they aren’t? In my own experience, I’ve had to seek out education scholars with identities different from my own, and learning from them has made me a better educator for all students. Rudine Sims Bishop’s article, published 1990, was not a part of my pre-service education. I discovered it several years into my experience as a librarian. It transformed my practice then and continues to do so.