Thank you for coming to my press conference.
Many people describe the Caldecott Honor–winning tome by Robert McCloskey, which recounts my harrowing tale, with words like “precious” and “adorable.”
Truth is, inadvertently switching places with a bear cub and almost being raised and/or eaten by a literal mama bear was a traumatizing experience for me, one which nobody seems to understand.
I can no longer bite my tongue, and I am here today to speak my truth.
I will now take your questions.
What specifically was I afraid of, that day after the baby bear and I accidentally switched places? Well, I feared that the bear mom might abscond with me into the wilds of Maine to raise me as her own, like Tarzan, but without the uncomfortable sensual subtext.
Why didn’t I just run in the other direction? Wow, way to victim blame. Ever heard of Stockholm syndrome?
Reuniting with my real mom that day was a huge relief, but the nightmare had only just begun. The book—with its pro-wildlife PR spin and achingly cute illustrations—created a narrative around my experience that was impossible to correct once the media train left the proverbial station. Everywhere I went, people wanted me to autograph that unauthorized, godforsaken book.
And who was I to disappoint them? I’m just a five-year-old whose mom did not notice she was talking to a bear instead of her own child, for chrissakes. Clearly, things are not totally hunky dory at home, ya know?
So, I signed some books, sure. But then the next thing I know, it became the document of record about how that horrible day in the blueberry fields went down. People think I condone its treacly message, but they don’t know me.
Really wish McCloskey had stuck to writing about ducks.
How is my relationship with my mom, you ask? Yeesh. Loaded question.
Look, my mother and I have been through some stuff, to state the obvious. We’re in therapy, and I make her promise to always address me as “Sal, my human child.”
Funny how that tidbit didn’t make it into the book.
Wow, it feels cathartic to finally set the record straight. Maybe next month I’ll try to eat a blueber—no, never mind.
Too soon.
All right, I have time for one more question. Suzanne, what you got?
Mmhmm…
Yes…
Sure, I’m familiar with the context. I’m five, but I’m informed.
My answer is: No, even after all that, I would still choose to be trapped in the woods with a bear.