Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)

An African-American man addresses his grandson in Mason's (Inside All) gently told story, repeatedly bidding him to "Look at these hands, Joseph." Gracefully segueing between present and past, the grandfather mentions feats he once performed ("Did you know these hands used to tie a triple bowline knot in three seconds flat?") and what his hands accomplish now ("Well, I can still help a young fellow learn to tie his shoes-yes, I can"). Working in oil wash with kneaded eraser to create gauzy paintings in a sepia-heavy palette, Cooper (A Beach Tail) shows the man helping his grandson play the piano and perfect his baseball swing. Narrative and art then flash back to a time when "these hands" were not allowed to mix dough in the Wonder Bread factory, but instead swept floors and loaded trucks. Yet that changed after many hands joined together to sign petitions and carry protest signs, and now "any hands can mix the bread dough, no matter their color." An author's note provides historical context. It's a moving study of multigenerational relationships and triumph over discrimination. Ages 4-8. (Mar.)

Horn Book (Mon Aug 01 00:00:00 CDT 2011)

Grandfather demonstrates the things his hands can do (e.g., play piano, perform card tricks) then relates for his grandson what they were forbidden from doing while working at the segregated Wonder Bread factory: namely, touch the bread dough. Cooper's oil-wash illustrations in sepia tones reflect gentleness, strength, warmth, and history. An appended author's note tells more about the story's true events.

ALA Booklist (Tue Feb 01 00:00:00 CST 2011)

"Look at these hands, Joseph. / Did you know these hands / used to . . ." Starting from the refrain, a man on each double-page spread tells a smiling boy how to tie his shoes, play the piano, hit a line drive, and more. Cooper's signature style of softly blurred illustrations in sepia shades shows the bonds in a loving family. There is an abrupt break in the verse as the man remembers, "Did you know these hands / were not allowed to touch / the bread dough / in the Wonder Bread factory?" The bosses said that white people did not want to eat bread touched by black hands, so blacks were only allowed to sweep the floor, work the line, and load the trucks. Then the story's tone shifts again, and stirring pictures celebrate the historic civil rights and union protests that brought attention to the issue, and a long author's note offers more context. The story's roots in rarely told history will widen the audience of this moving title to older readers, too.

Kirkus Reviews (Fri Oct 04 00:00:00 CDT 2024)

With tenderness and pride, a grandfather shares the many skills of his hands with his grandson, who is a happy student. Those hands can tie knots, play the piano, perform card tricks and swing a baseball bat. The text is beautifully cadenced. "Well, I can still teach a young fellow / how to do a waterfall shuffle / —yes I can." But then comes the mood-shattering remembrance. Those hands, not so very long ago, could not touch the dough in the Wonder Bread factory. Those hands did not stay still: They joined in protest with many other hands and voices and achieved equality. The little boy learns all his lessons well, with a tasty loaf of bread as his crowning achievement. The author has based her story on conversations with an African-American bakery union activist, according to her author's note. Cooper's signature artwork in muted shades of yellows and browns intensifies the warmth of the intergenerational bonding. The faces are particularly expressive. For all the many titles that appear on segregation and protest for younger readers, this one stands tall not just for delving into a piece of labor history not previously covered, but for its ability to relate history with heart and resonance. (Picture book. 4-8)

School Library Journal (Tue Mar 01 00:00:00 CST 2011)

Gr 1-5 This picture book based on oral history from the Civil Rights Movement abounds in the rich, concrete symbolism that young readers will understand and retain. The narration is poetically told in the African-American oratory style made famous by Rev. King, and Grandfather's voice sets the tone, made strong through repetition: "Look at these hands.../Did you know these hands/used to make the ivories sing/like a sparrow in springtime?/Well, I can still show a young fellow/how to play 'Heart and Soul'/yes, I can." Piano playing is only one of things the man shares with grandson Joseph. His booming narration then shifts in a dramatic, yet unsentimental manner: "&30;Did you know that these hands/were not allowed to mix/the bread dough/in the Wonder Bread Factory?/&30;Because the bosses said/white people would not want to eat bread/touched by these hands." Expansive spreads in Cooper's signature muted, earth-toned oil-wash style follow, chronicling what those hands did to confront that injustice: writing petitions, carrying signs. Joseph takes over the final part of the narrative and tells his grandfather how his hands now can hit a ball, play piano, and even bake bread. Children need to know that they "can do anything./Anything at all in this whole wide world." An author's note gives the provenance of this provocative story and other examples of "unwritten rules" for African-American workers prior to 1964. Sara Lissa Paulson, American Sign Language and English Lower School PS 347, New York City

Starred Review for Kirkus Reviews

With tenderness and pride, a grandfather shares the many skills of his hands with his grandson, who is a happy student. Those hands can tie knots, play the piano, perform card tricks and swing a baseball bat. The text is beautifully cadenced. "Well, I can still teach a young fellow / how to do a waterfall shuffle / —yes I can." But then comes the mood-shattering remembrance. Those hands, not so very long ago, could not touch the dough in the Wonder Bread factory. Those hands did not stay still: They joined in protest with many other hands and voices and achieved equality. The little boy learns all his lessons well, with a tasty loaf of bread as his crowning achievement. The author has based her story on conversations with an African-American bakery union activist, according to her author's note. Cooper's signature artwork in muted shades of yellows and browns intensifies the warmth of the intergenerational bonding. The faces are particularly expressive. For all the many titles that appear on segregation and protest for younger readers, this one stands tall not just for delving into a piece of labor history not previously covered, but for its ability to relate history with heart and resonance. (Picture book. 4-8)