Well, if Lolly schooled us on Frankie and Lucky Get Schooled, I guess it's inevitable that I educate you about School’s First Day of School. Christian Robinson’s other books have stickers all over their covers: Sibert, Coretta Scott King, Boston Globe-Horn Book, and even a Newbery Medal. So, when he has a new book out, we all pay attention.

I reviewed this one a while back for The Horn Book. Here is what I said:

"We've had many books about kids getting ready for the first day of school, but now we have another perspective: the school's itself. The title page shows the finishing touches being added to a brand-new building. By the time the story starts, Frederick Douglass Elementary is ready, its door a smile, waiting for the first day. It quickly makes friends with Janitor but is worried about meeting the students (Janitor says: '"Don’t worry — you’ll like the children." But the school thought that Janitor was probably wrong about that'). Turns out, Janitor is right about many things. As the day goes on, the school learns to appreciate the kids and hopes Janitor will invite them back. ... Robinson's naively styled paintings are the perfect complement to a warm, welcoming story. This diverse group of children is all circles: round heads, black-dot eyes, curly or bowl-shaped hairstyles. Even when they are acting silly (milk shooting out of a boy's nose, for instance), they are likable and engaging, with each child depicted as a friendly-looking individual. Sure to become a staple for first days of school everywhere."

It’s always a bit strange to read something I wrote so long ago, especially with new eyes. This time, I have to evaluate the book with my Caldecott glasses on. So let's go straight to the pictures. Endpapers: friendly, like a chalkboard with black background and basic colors, like those in an 8-pack of Crayolas. I try hard not to ask a book to be something it is not, but I have to wonder why there are children in the opening endpapers, given that the story is about the difference between an empty school and one filled with children. As the pages turn, we are back to the construction scene on the title pages and a stark white background on the opening pages. The very first page of the story shows the front of the school, plain, yet friendly, with small trees planted to each side. That smiling front door welcomes the kids in. How does Robinson create this mood with just a few shapes and colors? It’s just that: simplicity with both color and shape. The young reader can imagine himself drawing those pictures. The cars and trucks are rendered the way kindergartners would draw them. The houses are the houses of memory — two rectangular windows, a door right in the middle, and a roof. The trees are a trunk, two main limbs, and a lollipop-shaped body.

Is it simple without being simplistic? That’s going to be the question for the committee. I would argue that this style is perfect for this story. Though the illustrations are naive, the details add a lot. Robinson's world is a world of all sorts of people: women construction workers, kids dressed in everything from a suit and tie (sorry, Roger, it's not a bowtie) to overalls, a child in a wheelchair, even a screaming child being wrestled by a cellphone-clinging mom. I love that the school is a friendly, welcoming place. It's a school where parents are welcomed, where the classrooms are decorated with love, where books are revered, and the arts respected. It's a school where any child would love to learn.

Will this busy cover be adorned with a silver or gold sticker in January? I’m not sure about that … but I would bet real money that the book will make it to the final round of discussion!