The Pecan Sheller

Written by Lupe Ruiz-Flores

ASIN: B0D6KR93J1

Publisher: Carolrhoda Books ®

Language: English

Print length: 256 pages

ISBN-13: 979-8765610527

Reading age: 10 - 14 years

*Pura Belpré Children’s Author Award

In 1930s San Antonio, thirteen-year-old Petra dreams of going to college and becoming a writer.

But with her beloved father dead, two younger siblings to care for, and with a stepmother struggling to make ends meet, Petra has to drop out of school to shell pecans at a factory. Hoping it's only temporary, she tries not to despair over the grueling work conditions. But after the unhealthy environment leads to tragedy and workers' already low wages are cut, Petra knows things need to change. She and her coworkers go on strike for higher wages and safer conditions, risking everything they have for the hope of a better future.

"Heart-warming and enraging in equal parts, this important American story reveals the power of family, community, and hope."―Laurie Halse Anderson, New York Times-bestselling author

Review

A Junior Library Guild Selection

"A powerful, moving story explores the little-known but important story of the six-week pecan shellers' strike."―starred, Booklist

"Using short chapters with quick pacing, Ruiz-Flores (Piece by Piece) unveils intimate and well-researched depictions of the Pecan Shellers Strike of 1938 and its impact on Mexican descendants and beyond."―starred, Publishers Weekly

"The story deftly explores the nuances of both Petra's and Amá's relationship and traumas, as well as the strength and hope to be found in family and community. A poignantly, beautifully written tale."―starred, Kirkus Reviews

"Based on the real-life pecan sheller's strike of 1938, Ruiz-Flores's captivating tale is filled with hope."―New York Times Book Review

Lupe Ruiz-Flores is the author of six bilingual picture books. She is a former Regional Advisor for the Southwest Chapter of the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) and until recently its newsletter editor. Lupe has won the SCBWI Work-In-Progress Grant, the SCBWI/Amazon Work-in-Progress Grant, and the SCBWI Martha Weston Award. She is a member of the Writers League of Texas, Texas Library Association, Las Musas, and Kindling Words. She was awarded the Tejas Star Book Award for three consecutive years. Her poetry and short stories have been published in anthologies, including Thanku: Poems of Gratitude. She was recently inducted into the Texas Institute of Letters.

Putting A Piano In Its Place

Ashes to...Keyboards and Skins

Michael Sedano

I lost the piano I’ve had since 1950, a year ago in the Eaton Fire. Ever since, I’ve been able to play Thelma Reyna’s piano, so my fingers haven’t entirely forgotten how to find the right notes. Playing is not practicing so I’m a year out of practice. I’ve felt the absence of a piano in the house, and, peor, I haven’t had a permanent residence until only recently.

Three homes in Redlands, then Temple City, back to Redlands, rejoin us in Eagle Rock, Pasadena, Altadena. All those places and times, my piano keeps me satisfied and tormented at the same time. Practice tends to soften frustration and when it works and all the fingers come together, it’s a taste of the sublime.

I mourn the absence of that possibility, that momentary discovery of perfection, a line of notes becoming music.

Losing my piano in the fire creates a wound that can never heal. The piano and the sheet music that burned are unrecoverable things rich with memories. While all the things I lost and suddenly remember are emotional papercuts, losing that piano cuts deeper. Not that a new piano won’t assuage the loss. A ver.

Today, I have a piano. Mejor, the piano is a Kimball, same as my lifelong instrument, the one with all those memories. Time for new memories. Adelante, don't look back for too long.

Brandon, with Altadena Musicians, put me in contact with Steve from Santa Monica who had a piano he was donating to survivors of the Eaton Fire. Altadena Musicians understands what losing a precious instrument does to a person’s soul, and to professionals, livelihood. Brandon’s organization coordinates donors to gente like me who were burned out.

“What did you lose?” Brandon asks when I first contact him about a free piano. My inventory includes conga drums--a beautiful set Barbara gave me for Christmas one year--and my piano.

People are generous, wonderful, and truly good, sabes?

Brandon and the Altadena Musicians are not looking for credit, nothing formal-- like I don’t know Brandon’s last name. Nor Steve’s. In fact, these good people extended incredible generosity. When I texted Steve how I could not accept the piano owing to a costly professional mover’s quote, I thought that was that.

In response, Steve tells me all is not lost. And Brandon suggests the foundation can pay the movers. I am moved and grateful at the offer. On his own initiative, Steve connects with A. Garcia Piano Movers, a 30 years in business firm with no website, who move pianos for the Santa Monica music conservatory at discounts and at times pro bono. Steve makes all the arrangements for delivery. I cut short an Arboretum walkabout and get home in time to move furniture out of the path of the three vatos lifting my new piano into my new home. Órale.

I began today miserable, having abandoned hope of owning a piano again. In a rapid fire series of text and voice messaging I learn the piano will come to me within a few hours. At the same time, thanks again to Brandon and Altadena Musicians, another generous soul has placed conga drums in their unlocked patio for me to pick up sometime today. Ajúa.

And so it went, February 2, 2026.

“Matilde en la hamaca” by Xánath Caraza

“Matilde en la hamaca” by Xánath Caraza

 

Matilde en la hamaca: imagen de Israel Nazario

Matilde en la hamaca

 

Para Matilde en la hamaca de Israel Nazario

 

Ahí estaba

con su vestido amarillo

y el pelo abierto a la aventura.

Su mirada perdida entre el mar y un recuerdo.

Volar, volar, volar con las aves pasajeras.

 

El árbol la miraba calladamente

cuando se mecía en la hamaca,

la escuchaba suspirar,

leía sus pensamientos.

 

Distinguía su vestido amarillo,

su cabello flotando en el aire.

Temblaba el árbol al pronunciar su nombre.

Una discreta hoja se escapó hasta ella

con la ayuda del viento tocó su cabellera.

 

 

Matilde en la hamaca de Israel Nazario

Matilde in the Hammock

 

After Matilde en la hamaca by Israel Nazario

                   

There she was

in her yellow dress

and her hair open to adventure.

Her gaze lost between the sea and a memory.

Fly, fly, fly with the seasonal birds.

 

Quietly, the tree stared at her

while she rocked in the hammock,

it heard her breathe,

it read her thoughts.

 

It was able to see her yellow dress,

her hair floating in the air.

The tree trembled when pronouncing her name.

A discrete leaf escaped its way unto her

with the help of the wind. It touched her tuft of hair.

 

Xanath Caraza

Parts of Corazón Pintado: Ekphrastic Poems were written with the support from the Beca Nebrija para Creadores 2014 award from the Instituto Franklin in Alcalá de Henares, Madrid, Spain.

 

Image by Israel Nazario, Matilde en la hamaca.

 

Cover art by Jesús Chán Guzmán

 

Corazón Pintado: Ekphrastic Poems (Pandora Lobo Estepario Press, 2015) by Xánath Caraza.

Xanath Caraza

Poetry Connection: Ekphrastic Poetry, La Super-Rica, and the Repair Cafe SB

Melinda Palacio 

Poetry reminds us of what we hold dear. It’s both a way to share our collective joy and grief. When our current Poet Laureate, George Yatchisin, asked me to contribute an ekphrastic poem to the Fare Trade Exhibit at City Hall, I chose Patricia Clarke’s photograph, “La Super- Rica.” The Fare Trade exhibit was impressive on many levels. The addition of the Papel Picado hanging from the ceiling already said Fiesta and draws the eye to the corridor in City Hall where people usually go to when they need to pay a bill or find an important legal document. The art on the walls was photography by Brett Leigh Dicks and Patricia Clarke, all featuring photographs of taquerias and diners. I chose Clarke’s La Super-Rica because it was the first eatery I went to upon arriving in Santa Barbara twenty-five years ago, an initiation for most newcomers. When I sat down to respond to the photograph and compose my ekphrastic poem, I Renee Good on my mind. ICE looms large in my everyday thoughts. As a participant and fellow listener, I enjoyed the variety of poems inspired by the exhibit and the standing room only crowd. 

The next day’s Repair Cafe provided another soothing balm and chance to bond with the community; there’s was even free on-demand poetry by Simon Kieffer. I participated in my capacity as a musician on guitar and ukulele with the Ladies’ Strumming Social Club who provided some entertainment. The Repair Cafe is not a restaurant that serves food. It’s a community movement and popup at the CEC’s Environmental Hub on 1219 State Street, suite A. The donated space at the CEC’s Environmental Hub is a perfect fit. The space is large enough for volunteers to bring in repair tools with the comfortable feel of meeting in a neighbor’s home. The bimonthly event is powered by volunteers who help keep things out of the landfill by repairing broken items, everything from knife sharpening to bicycle, electrical, and sewing repairs.

 

I wasn’t too surprised to see my friend Lora Martin at one of the tables, fixing things with her sewing machine. Lora knows her way around a sewing machine and is more than happy to volunteer and share her skills. “I wanted to help and support our community and I believe in the Repair Cafe’s mission,” she said. “We throw too many things away.” Lora found out about the Repair Cafe through social media and sent an email to offer her services. She was able to fix my torn canvas tote bag. I saw a few friends who also needed sewing repairs. Fellow poet Monica Mody had a garment mended that her mother had gifted her. 

Empowerment and education is another component of the Repair Cafe. In some cases, volunteers can teach people how to make their own future repairs. The next repair cafe will be at the Environmental Hub on March 21 from 10 to 1pm, . If you have a skill or knack at fixing things, the all volunteer movement known as the Repair Cafe could use more volunteers, contact info@repaircafesb.

Canopy Over Milpas and Alphonse

Melinda Palacio

The friend I invited to lunch declined, not for fear of ICE.
She is not worried for herself, but for me.
‘Can’t make it, watch out for ICE,’ she said, fancying herself funny.

I go along with the joke as nothing will keep me
from stopping by the restaurant that’s easily overlooked
with an empty dirt lot next to it, low ceiling.
Thick roots give rise to spindly branches and a lush.
top heavy Laurel Fig, an outstretched canopy over the world.

I tell my friend I have a strategy for defeating ICE.
Say I will expose how much of a good citizen I am

by rattling off the names of all the state capitals, an old party trick.

ICE fools can’t name all the states, let alone their capitals.

Can words like Tallahassee, Phoenix, or Annapolis save me

from cruelty, from disappearing citizen me?

They know, we all know, that when they come for my brown skin,

but end up killing a white women, a mother, a poet, a kind woman,

an ally who never expected to take three bullets in the face for me,

for all of us, their souls are lost.

People in line, hoping to receive the last Alambre de Pechuga are absent.

Beneath a blue sky, houses in the distant ridge, the neighborhood terrorized

by ICE is a community of families, firefighters, shopkeepers, caregivers, cooks,

bookeepers, servers, mechanics, dishwashers, doctors, musicians, and educators,

nestled around the Milpas landmark, known as la Super Rica. 

 

 

*an earlier version of this column was published in the Santa Barbara Independent

Remembering A Quick Trip to La Segunda and a Green Suit

Copying our Chicano parents' 1940's style into the '60s

                                                                             

Even cassettes still available at la secunda
   
  

      As a kid, I remember my grandmother and Spanish-speaking Mexican relatives calling it, “La Segunda.” My Mexican American/Chicano parents called it, the Second-hand, Thrift, or Used Clothing Store, even though it carried more than just clothes. I remembered this, out of the blue, during one of my morning cruises when I passed no less than four thrift stores in about a five-mile radius on L.A.'s tony westside. That’s more establishments than Mc Donalds’, Burger King, or even Pollo Loco.

     I’ve been going to thrift stores since the 1970s, when my generation didn’t want to get caught wearing anything new or trendy, rebelling against the establishment's department stores. Teenagers and young adults, rich and poor alike, dressed like laborers, farmers, and grannies. We went for faded jeans, khakis, sailors' bellbottoms, t-shirts, tank tops, worn Pendletons, army or jean jackets, cowboy or work boots, stuff like that, pretending we were “all country,” even in the suburbs. Of course, many Chicanos weren't pretending, except maybe the guaraches and sarapes went a bit too far. That was us, unapologetically introducing our culture's working-class garb onto college campuses.

     The segunda carried plenty of that, including furniture, books and records, at the lowest prices. That it was all “truly used" didn’t make any difference. Once you washed the clothes, they were good as new. A 1960s-70s apartment, for instance, wouldn’t have the newest furniture or consoles from Sears or Montgomery Ward, like our parents’ generation, proud of assimilation. My generation wanted to keep a certain Mexican identity, whatever that meant. We weren't really sure. A lot of us were barely able to speak Spanish correctly.

     We recycled milk cartons, cinder blocks, and pine planks for end tables or wall and book shelves. We liked sitting on old, comfortable sofas, sarapes draped over the back, large pillows tossed on a rug, rattan chairs purchased at Pier 1, Imports, a colorful charro sombrero on the wall, potted plants in woven macrame hanging from the ceiling, making a statement. What? It wasn't really clear.

     Of course, all that changed when we got real jobs, a decent salary, married, and started having kids. Me? I hung on to the old ways into the 80s. Today, I still go into thrift stores. I recently picked up a pair of JBL book-shelf speakers, perfect sound. Seems like everybody is getting rid of their stodgy stereos and big-ass speakers and streaming music through devices smaller than a tissue box. A lot of thrift stores are filled with quality stereo equipment.

    That got me to thinking about the time I landed a position as dean at a local community college. I’d already paid my dues, working in administration at two UC’s and a state university, as well as five-years of teaching. My go-to clothes were beige khaki’s, polo shirts or powder blue dress shirts, tie, and dark blue blazer.

    So, I was hanging out with a friend, a painter by trade. I’d done my time with manual labor in my youth, before I finished my university degrees. We were talking and watching a game on television. Who knows what game, depending what was in season. I told him I had to go to Washinton D.C. for a conference and visit legislators who sat on the Higher Education Committees, to twist their arms about letting loose of more funding for colleges and universities. I told him I needed to go buy a suit. A blue blazer, tie, and kakis wouldn’t cut it on the "Hill."

     I asked if he wanted to go with me, to keep me company while I looked at suits. He agreed. We hopped into my car and headed out. He asked where we were going. I retorted, “La segunda.” He burst out laughing. I told him why spend hundreds of dollars on a suit when I’d only wear it once, maybe twice. I hated suits. I wasn’t in the Willie Brown, Antonio Villaraigosa camp, wearing form-fitting custom-made Italian suits. It wasn’t even about the money. If I wanted, I could spring for a $1,000 suit, but it went against my values. He listened, chuckling the whole time, thinking I was jostling him. “Come on, really, where are we going,” he asked, “Nordstrom, Macy’s?”

     He thought I was taking the joke too far when I pulled into a thrift store parking lot on Santa Monica Boulevard, in West L.A., near where he went to high school. When I stepped out of the car, he stayed put. “Alright, I get it,” he said, or something to that effect. “You can stop with the joke.”

     “No joke. They’ve got suits, and cheap.”

     Reluctantly, he followed me into the store, suspicious, not wanting to get caught up in my teasing, the butt of my joke, like waiting for me to say, “Ah! Got you.”

     Once you get past the musty smell in the clothes area, they really do have some nice clothes. I even saw a few Mercedes, Lexus, and BMWs in the parking lot, hip shoppers coming down from Brentwood to find bargains on named brands.

     Each time I pulled a suit from the rack, he kept his eyes peeled, waiting for me to pull the trigger, to catch him in my trap. It didn’t take but fifteen minutes for me to find a dark green suit, made in New York, a brand I knew carried some weight. “I’m going to try this on,” I told him.

     I found a changing room, and, even to my surprise, it fit perfectly, pant waist and length, like it had been waiting for me. I came outside and stood in front of the mirror. “What do you think?”

     He cocked an eye, afraid to commit. Eventually, he said, “Looks good, actually.”

     “Yeah, right. I’m taking it.”

     I showed him the price tag hanging from one sleeve, $12.00. “How can you beat that?” I said, more of a statement than a question.

     He shook his head, still not getting himself to believe what he was witnessing, like I was about to say, “Fake! Let’s get out of here and go to a real suit store.”

     I walked to the cash register and placed the suit on the counter. I took out a twenty-dollar-bill. The woman at the register said, “Ah, your lucky day. It’s on sale, fifty percent off." She folded the coat and trousers and put them into a plastic bag. She gave me back fourteen dollars. We made a quick exit to the parking lot, passing people entering the store, and got into my car. On the drive home, my friend kept shaking his head, not sure what to believe, that I'd drop six bucks on a joke and still go to a real suit store, that I was cheap, and lucky.

     I wore the suit to D.C., met with legislators and toured the capitol, attended a conference, lunches, and dinners, proud as punch in my snazzy dark green suit, looking like it had been tailor made, not one other suit in the bunch “out-suiting” me. I even got a couple of compliments.

     It stayed in my closet for years. I never had the need to wear it again, as I switched back to khakis, powder blue shirts, and dark blue blazers. Somewhere along the line, I guess I took it back to la segunda, to give someone else a shot at wearing it.

American Library Association Award Winners 2026

For a complete list of ALA awards winners or to watch the announcement ceremony visit, https://www.ala.unikron.com

 

Pura Belpré Pura Belpré Awards

Pura Belpré Awards honoring Latino writers and illustrators whose children's and young adult

books best portray, affirm and celebrate the Latino cultural experience.

Belpré Children’s Illustration Award

“Popo the Xolo,” illustrated by Abraham Matias, written by Paloma Angelina Lopez and

published by Charlesbridge.

Belpré Illustration Honor Books

“A-Ztec: A Bilingual Alphabet Book,” illustrated and written by Emmanuel Valtierra and

published by Arthur A. Levine, an imprint of Levine Querido

“The Invisible Parade,”illustrated by John Picacio, written by Leigh Bardugo and John Picacio and published by Little, Brown and Company, a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

Belpré Children’s Author Award

“The Pecan Sheller,” written by Lupe Ruiz-Flores and published by Carolrhoda Books, an imprint of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

Belpré Children’s Author Honor Books

"A Hero’s Guide to Summer Vacation," written by Pablo Cartaya and published by Kokila, an

imprint of Penguin Random House

“The Island of Forgotten Gods,” written by Victor Piñeiro and published by Sourcebooks Young Readers, an imprint of Sourcebooks Kids

“A Sea of Lemon Trees: The Corrido of Roberto Alvarez,” written by María Dolores Águila and published by Roaring Brook Press, a division of Holtzbrinck Publishing.

Belpré Young Adult Author Award

"On the Wings of la Noche," written by Vanessa L. Torres and published by Alfred A. Knopf, an

imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House.

Belpré Young Adult Author Honor Books

“Rosa by Any Other Name,” written by Hailey Alcaraz and published by Viking, an imprint of

Penguin Random House.

"Silenced Voices: Reclaiming Memories from the Guatemalan Genocide," written and illustrated by Pablo Leon and published by HarperAlley, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers. 

“The Story of My Anger,” written by Jasminne Mendez and published by Dial Books, an imprint of Penguin Random House.

Coretta Scott King Book Awards

Coretta Scott King Book Awards recognizing an African American author and illustrator of outstanding books for children and young adults.

King Author Award Book

“Will’s Race for Home,” written by Jewell Parker Rhodes, is the King Author Book winner. The book is published by Little, Brown and Company, a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

King Author Honor Books

“The Incredibly Human Henson Blayze,” written by Derrick Barnes and published by Viking, an imprint of Penguin Random House.

“The Library in the Woods,” written by Calvin Alexander Ramsey, illustrated by R. Gregory Christie and published by Carolrhoda Books, an imprint of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc. 

“Split the Sky,” written by Marie Arnold and published by Little, Brown and Company, a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

King Illustrator Award Book

“The Library in the Woods,” illustrated by R. Gregory Christie and written by Calvin Alexander Ramsey, is the King Illustrator Book award winner. This book is published by Carolrhoda Books, an imprint of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

King Illustrator Honor Books

"André: André Leon Talley–A Fabulously Fashionable Fairy Tale," illustrated by Lamont O’Neal, written by Carole Boston Weatherford and Rob Sanders and published by Henry Holt and Company, an imprint of Macmillan Publishing Group.

"City Summer, Country Summer," illustrated by Alexis Franklin, written by Kiese Laymon and published by Kokila, an imprint of Penguin Random House.

Coretta Scott King/John Steptoe New Talent Author Award

Arriel Vinson for “Under the Neon Lights,” published by G.P. Putnam’s Sons, an imprint of Penguin Random House.

Coretta Scott King – Virginia Hamilton Award for Lifetime Achievement

Kadir Nelson is the winner of the Coretta Scott King – Virginia Hamilton Award for Lifetime Achievement. The award pays tribute to the quality and magnitude of beloved children’s author Virginia Hamilton. Nelson is a renowned artist and storyteller whose work as both author and illustrator appears in over 30 children’s books. He has received numerous honors for his contributions to children’s literature, including the Caldecott Medal, Coretta Scott King Illustrator Award, Robert F. Sibert Medal, and multiple New York Times Best Illustrated Book distinctions.

John Newbery Medal

John Newbery Medal for the most outstanding contribution to children's literature. 

“All the Blues in the Sky,” written by Renée Watson and published by Bloomsbury Children’s Books, an imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing.

Newbery Honor Books

“The Nine Moons of Han Yu and Luli," written and illustrated by Karina Yan Glaser and published by Allida, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

”A Sea of Lemon Trees: The Corrido of Roberto Alvarez," written by María Dolores Águila and published by Roaring Brook Press, a division of Holtzbrinck Publishing.

”The Teacher of Nomad Land: A World War II Story," written by Daniel Nayeri and published by Arthur A. Levine, an imprint of Levine Querido.

”The Undead Fox of Deadwood Forest," written by Aubrey Hartman, illustrated by

Marcin Minor and published by Little, Brown and Company, a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

Randolph Caldecott Medal

Randolph Caldecott Medal for the most distinguished American picture book for children.

“Fireworks,” illustrated by Cátia Chien, written by Matthew Burgess, and published by Clarion Books, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

Caldecott Honor Books

“Every Monday Mabel,” illustrated and written by Jashar Awan and published by Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, an imprint of Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing.

“Our Lake,” illustrated and written by Angie Kang and published by Kokila, an imprint of Penguin, Random House.

“Stalactite & Stalagmite: A Big Tale from a Little Cave”, illustrated and written

by Drew Beckmeyer and published by Atheneum Books for Young Readers, an imprint of Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing.

“Sundust,” illustrated and written by Zeke Peña and published by Kokila, an imprint of Penguin Random House.