Pearson, “My Turn on Earth” (Reviewed by Heather Harris Bergevin

Review

Title: My Turn On Earth
Author: Carol Lynn Pearson
Publisher: Zion Book Works
Genre: Children’s
Year Published: 2020
Number of Pages: 48
Binding: Paper   
ISBN: 9781977929938
Price: 18.95

Reviewed by Heather Harris Bergevin for the Association of Mormon Letters

Y’all know I’ve always loved Carol Lynn Pearson, and I grew up with the earlier rendition of this book, My Turn On Earth, and the accompanying music, as a favorite growing up in my childhood home. I once had a friend wake up in the night, with us having fallen asleep to the tape, to a quiet voice softly and eerily saying, “Baaaaarbaraaaaa……it’s time to come Hooooooooooooome…” which freaked her out immensely and sent me into fits of giggles for years to come. This reprint is a heady dose of memories, and a large part of which was remembering that Barbara, whose turn on Earth it is in this story, looks so much like my childhood friend Bambi (whose nickname was not because her own name was Barbara. Her name is Jamie, which I didn’t find out until adulthood. The South is like that).

Barbara and her story hold up rather well. They are still doctrinally correct, and still presented in a child accessible way. She still looks a lot like my friend Bambi, who is a grown-up human now. Her story will still be identifiable to many children in Utah, and often those outside of it. The emphasis on the Golden Rule is still exceptionally useful, and the demonstration of love and compassion for others. If there is anything we need at this moment, it’s the opportunity to remember that Christ’s gospel is about learning how to better and more effectively love other people.

Most of the illustrations hold up to modern eyes, also. However, we have to remember when this book was initially published was 1977, one year before the Priesthood Ban was lifted. This makes the illustrations make slightly more sense, as nobody in the premortal existence is portrayed as anything except, well, Caucasian. (Hold on. This is icky, I know. Lean into the history. Lean into the discomfort. I’m sorry. It’s difficult. Continue to lean in, because that’s the only way we recognize and make changes). Nobody on Earth in all of the pictures is a person of color, either, until the last page, save one page in the center that is in black and white. The last page was, admittedly, always one of my favorite images as a small person. I always loved the image of love of all the children together from all over the world. However, when Barbara goes back to heaven to be with those she loves? All white.

My favorite page always has been the one where the author explains that some went as queens and some as rich and some poor, and what “costume” you wore really “didn’t matter a whole lot.” The illustration is beautifully done, and the silhouettes from around the world and varying cultures are still lovely. As an adult, though, I truly believe that it matters to discuss “what you wore,” because it shapes your capacity to see and hear the needs of others. Many of us, in one way or another, wear great privilege. The concept of being color-blind (ability-blind, gender-blind, etc) is terribly outdated because it connotes that the person saying “it doesn’t matter much” can’t see the cultural, racial, gender, or other struggles involved, which I do not believe is intended by either author or illustrator. I believe the opposite was intended at the time, but that our understanding has grown. Coupled with the lack of representation, this complication can easily be misconstrued by those still intending to foment racism within our ranks. We have to talk about these things in order to be able to stare at them until we see them effectively. That this shift has occurred in our comprehension, however, is an indicator that we have grown and changed as an organization in the last forty-three years.

Thank Goodness.

Most of the book holds up to the test of time, however. If I was in charge of reprinting this book, I would do so as a black and white coloring book, with no indicators of shading on faces or hair for what colors or races they were intended to be. Children could listen to the music (which is also available) and color in their own friends and family to be included in Barbara’s world, which then would not need to be overwhelmingly Utahcentric nor Caucasian. As it is, this is a nice portion of childhood memorabilia for those of us Gen X’ers who might like to see how far the church has come since the seventies. This, all in all, is a very positive thing.

Now, I’ve got to go remind Bambi who she looked like as a small person, and then call up a friend with a creepy and dreamy, “Baaaaaaarbaraaaaaaaa….It’s time to come Hoooooooooooooome,” just for old time’s sake.