Francelia Butler: A Remembrance
Often credited with starting the literary study of Children’s Literature (from the Hartford Courant)
This essay appeared in the Hartford Courant (October 1, 1998)
Francelia Butler died September 17. No doubt, quite a few people reading this newspaper will remember Francelia because they were students in the huge classes she taught in Children’s Literature at the University of Connecticut. I remember her in a different way: as a dauntless woman and an example.
During the 1970’s, I was a graduate student in Storrs and studied under and worked with Francelia. Her classes in Children’s Literature were the most popular courses on the campus and typically enrolled 350 students each term.
One year, I and another graduate student were here teaching assistants. Characteristically, Francelia always generously insisted that the three of us “team taught” the course.
As others know, Francelia was largely responsible for creating the field of Children’s Literature and making it a respectable area of study in the humanities. Through her I was introduced to the field.
Later and through her help (lobbying potential employers on my behalf, writing letters of recommendation) I had whatever success has come to me as one of a second generation of scholar-teachers in children’s literature. When asked, I say Francelia Butler first invented the field and then she invented me.
In this regard, let me also mention Elaine Scarry, the other graduate student who shared with me the duties of being Francelia’s teaching assistant. Scarry is now a professor at Harvard, held an endowed chair at the University of Pennsylvania, won a Guggenheim Fellowship and other awards, and is the author of several high praised and influential books.
We met a few years ago, when Scarry was in residence at Berkeley and delivering a prestigious lecture series. Looking back, we agreed that we had been inspired to do more ambitious things because we had worked with Francelia.
Francelia Butler was a woman who knew no boundaries. The edges of the campus in Storrs were not the limits of her universe. She dragged, cajoled and wooed people from the world-at-large (movie stars, women executives she met on planes, collectors of Eskimo art) and persuaded them to come to her class and speak. And from the campus she went out to the manufacturers of Silkorsky helicopters to solicit donations for her Peace Game projects; to the war-torn neighborhoods of Belfast to collect skip-rope rhymes.
She was dauntless. Perhaps that is best explained by anecdote. When she arrived in New Delhi during one of her summer scholarly expeditions, Francelia immediately called the palace to inform Indira Gandhi that she was in town, and she asked when Gandhi would like to see her.
A baffled government employee took the message and said he would call back. He did, and Francelia had a meeting with Gandhi the next day (where they discussed Indian efforts to encourage children’s publishing, an enterprise started by Gandhi’s father).
I have been told that Daniel Patrick Moynihan expressed some surprise when told of the meeting; during his four years as ambassador to India, he had only been granted three audiences with the prime minister. But I think I can tell you something about Francelia when I note that she, herself, never expressed any surprise at having been granted that meeting. She was so plucky she didn’t even know that she was being so.
Francelia Butler was, in short, a remarkable woman. She was a great teacher, and was that for hundreds of students. For me and for others, she was also a great friend, ever eager to encourage and assist. But even more than that, she was a great example. She was someone in the thick of the university and (at the very same time) in the thick of life.
Not recognizing boundaries, her curiosity and daring spanned time zones and the globe; you would just as likely to find her talking with Big Bird in a television studio in New York, as you were to encounter her collecting folk stories from children in Appalachia.
For this and for many, many other things, Francelia Butler should be acknowledged and remembered.
For a related story, see
If you liked this, “clap” below so others will see this on Medium. To see the ten most popular entries on this blog, click here. And if you’d like to read more essays like this, click the “follow” button at the top of this page.
Twitter: twitter.com/Jerry_Griswold
Facebook: www.facebook.com/griswold.jerry
