It’s a fantasy ending, unlike the more realistic outcomes of The Great Gilly Hopkins and The Hundred Dresses, but after Kizzy’s struggles, my child self was not unhappy with a bit of Little Orphan Annie luck and hope at the end of the story. The adult also happens to be wildly wealthy. The Diddakoi ends happily, with Kizzy in the care of a stable, kind adult who loves her, and she blossoms, finally safe, loved and protected.

It may have been an uncomfortable read, but it stayed with me forever and, like Eleanor Estes’ powerful little book, The Hundred Dresses, forever influenced my understanding of bullying and privilege. I wanted people to see who Kizzy really was, even though I didn’t always like her myself (like Gilly, she is a flawed and all-too-human character). I remember this book being an uncomfortable read for me as a kid. I liked for people to be happy. Kizzy is a little like Katherine Paterson’s Gilly Hopkins, a seemingly tough cookie who is filled with confusion, anger, well-earned caution, and a yearning for unconditional love. When her Gran dies, and her caravan catches fire, Kizzy is suddenly without protection, surrounded by people whose suspicion of her differences makes her a target for derision and hatred. She lives with her Gran in a charming little caravan on wheels, and has a horse named Joe.

The Diddakoi is about a child named Keziah, or Kizzy, who is bullied because of her gypsy (now we would say Romany) heritage. This election and its aftermath made me think of a Rumer Godden novel I read as a child. Books that reach their hearts, inspire them to be their best selves, and that let them know they are seen, valued, and loved. And then hand them books that ignite and affirm empathy, books that give them the windows and mirrors we talk about so often. It may help them to know that you want to believe in the goodness and kindness of most of our country’s people, and that you and many, many other adults are committed to protecting and supporting those who are vulnerable. It’s helpful to let children know that you hear and understand their fears and worries. My own very basic answer is, try to create an environment of safety and empathy around you. (Side note: Publishers and editors, authors and illustrators, we have a HUGE imperative. We’ve all read the stories about what’s cropping up around the country, so the question at hand is, What do we do for our nation’s children that is truly helpful? And helpful right now, right this minute?

The children are of course picking up on our individual and national cocktails of stress and anger and fear and suspicion, and there is ripe new fodder for bullying and marginalizing on playgrounds. The country is still reeling from the most divisive election in most of our lifetimes, and every conversation with a stranger - or even a neighbor - contains potential fireworks.

The diddakoi summary