Before reading Dr. Jo, I was somewhat familiar with Monica Kulling’s work, having read three of her picture-book biographies in Tundra Books’ Great Ideas Series. The books introduce kids to the historical figures behind many inventions we take for granted, including inexpensive personal cameras, paper bags, elevators, and the Zamboni machines used on skating rinks’ icy surfaces. One of the good things about the books is Kulling’s focus on African American, female, and economically disadvantaged individuals, whose curiosity, creativity, and grit drove them to make valuable contributions to everyday life. Kulling’s Dr. Jo, resembles her earlier books in both format and content. The narrative is roughly 30 pages long and attractively illustrated—this time by Julianna Swaney, whose clean pencil and water-colour work, with its antique quality, complements the life story of Dr. Sara Josephine Baker.
I’d never heard of Dr. Jo before this book, and I’m glad Kulling decided to write about her. Baker certainly deserves attention for her early understanding of “the connection between poverty and illness” and her tireless work “to improve the health of women and their children” in big cities. Born in 1873 in Poughkeepsie, New York on the Hudson River, Jo was a very unconventional girl. Considered a tomboy, she spent her summers fishing the river with her younger brother, Robbie. Winters, the two skated together.
Kulling isolates two key events in Jo’s young life. At age 10, she injured her knee and was tended to by a doctor and his son, who was also a doctor. This experience apparently sparked her interest in becoming a physician herself, a decidedly unladylike career choice at the time. It is what happened when Jo was sixteen, though, that was probably even more decisive. In 1889, sewage was emptied into the river, the source of drinking water for the town. Jo’s beloved brother and then her father contracted typhoid fever and died within a few months of each other. After high school, she traveled to New York City where she received medical training at a college started by two doctor sisters, Elizabeth and Emily Blackwell. (Elizabeth was, in fact, the first woman to receive medical qualifications in the United States.)
After obtaining her medical license, Dr. Jo struggled to make a living in private practice. Kulling doesn’t explain why, but one assumes that public confidence in “lady” doctors wasn’t high. She ended up becoming a public health inspector (and eventually the first director of the New York City Department of Child Hygiene). Her role as an inspector took her to Hell’s Kitchen, a West-Side neighbourhood with manure-piled streets and squalid tenements, which were mostly occupied by immigrants. In almost no time she realized that many deaths, especially children’s, were due to unsanitary conditions and ignorance. She was determined to make a difference.
Kulling spends the last several pages addressing the improvements Jo made to public health in the city. Among other things, Jo devised antibacterial beeswax containers that held exact (single) doses of the silver nitrate solution applied to prevent blindness in babies. Prior to this, bacteria-laden glass containers for the solution were actually contributing to the problem. Jo designed an infant sleeper, with a button-down front, to replace the swaddling that caused babies to die from heat stroke. She also set up a system for licensing midwives, and she organized accessible stations where mothers could obtain clean, fresh milk for their kids.
For the most part, I really liked Julianna Swaney’s illustrations, but they do fall a bit short at times. Although Swaney does give young readers historically accurate details—for example, a 6-inch medical thermometer (which resembles a knitting needle) appears in one picture, she does not satisfactorily communicate the grit, grime, and general filth of the environment in which Dr. Jo worked. The immigrant families all look a bit too tidy. One illustration is even a bit puzzling: a family, shown seated at a table, is strangely engaged in making paper or cloth flowers. The text offers no explanation about this. Perhaps it was some kind of piecemeal work available at the time?
Aside from a couple of reservations about the book’s artwork, I really liked Dr. Jo. Dr. Sara Josephine Baker was a fascinating and admirable woman, and Kulling’s book does her justice. The vocabulary and content make it best suited to kids aged 8 to 10.