Zetta Elliott's Blog, page 33

proximity

Yesterday was magical. I took the train down to Philly and immersed myself in Black feminist art for the entire day! The Colored Girls Museum is incredible and stirred up so many ideas and memories and feelings…every room in the 3-story Victorian house in Germantown was full of handmade quilts, dolls, paintings, and sculptures…each room had its own scent, and the soothing effect was almost canceled out by the invigorating conversation we four had about the art, artifacts, and history evoked by everyday objects. I was with my scholar-friend Prof. Ebony Thomas and a senior from Bryn Mawr arrived shortly after CGM founder Vashti Dubois started the two-hour tour. By the time the tour was over, I’d taken nearly 50 photographs and filmed 4 short videos. I left Philly with an idea for a new City Kids book set in the art-filled house, and spent much of today thinking about my own treasured objects and heirlooms. I can’t really describe the experience but urge you to find your own way to Philadelphia. The exhibit will be up next Sunday but then the museum will close until March. The photos below will give you a sense of what you can expect…

Philly is just a 90-minute train ride away and yet all summer long I found reasons not to make the pilgrimage to the CGM. I can only imagine what I missed by not seeing the previous exhibit. Sometimes things are so close and yet we don’t reach out and grab hold. I was heading to the train last week when I saw a young woman with a baby strapped to her chest. She was moving fast and I thought to myself, “Look at her–she’s doing it. Mommy on the move! I could never do that.” Then I entered the subway and walked down to the end of the platform. I was reading messages on my phone when I noticed the same young woman out of the corner of my eye. She was fussing with her baby carrier and seemed to need help but her back was to me so I waited to see what she would do. She eventually turned toward me but still said nothing so I finally asked, “Do you need a hand?” And she smiled and said yes before handing over her heavy baby bag and purse. I watched as she refastened her many clasps and then I handed over her bags and fastened the last clasp on the back of the carrier. She thanked me and walked away, and I thought to myself, “Why didn’t she just ask me for help?” But I suppose I do the same thing—get close to a thing I want and then let my fear or uncertainty hold me back…

Milo’s Museum has been approved; the digital proof looks good so I’m just waiting for the print copy to arrive before I make it available online. A trip to Philly last spring inspired this picture book, so it’s fitting that I was with those same creative Black women when the final files were approved. And there was an article in The Guardian today about the need for museums to make their collections more representative of our diverse communities, so I’m not too upset that the book’s coming out in November instead of September. I’ve got a long list of people to share Milo with—if you’d like a digital review copy, just leave your email address in the comments section. I finished Essay #4 on Sunday and sent it off, so now I’ve got a week ahead of me with only two author events. If you’re in NYC, you can get a sneak peek of Milo at the Brooklyn Museum Children’s Book Fair on Saturday. And I’m looking forward to discussing “The Trouble with Magic” with Prof. Gabrielle Halko’s students on Thursday; last week we got an offer on Dragons in a Bag from an editor who compared my writing to the books of Ruth Chew. I deconstruct some of her fantasy novels in that essay…loved The Magic Cave as a child but I’m not a child any more…

kinfolk

I’m sniffling, which isn’t good. Temps are falling here in NYC and that means the running shorts have been put away and out come the fleece-lined tights! I’ve been feeling a bit sluggish this fall and so force myself to keep up with my running regimen; that compensates for how I live when I’m on the road. I’m generally driven everywhere so I don’t get much exercise, and then I eat terribly–all the sweets in the goody bags hosts provide, plus room service, plus bonus cake when I get home from a full day of book talks and need some hot tea to soothe my sore throat. My three days in Illinois were fantastic—the Youth Literature Festival was a great opportunity to connect with young readers and their enthusiastic school librarians. I had the best possible driver assigned to me, and Larry took care of everything—tech problems, directions to the schools, parking, even room set up! And there were those moments when I connected with a kid of color who maybe didn’t even know she’d been waiting to meet an author like me. At one school there were very few kids of color, and when I finished my book talk, a Black girl came up and just wrapped her arms around me without saying a word. After my first high school talk, a young woman who’d been nodding through my entire book talk came up and introduced herself as a Pacific Islander. She told me she appreciated “everything” I had to say and then we talked for a while about Disney’s upcoming film Moana and the problematic Halloween costume they finally pulled after protest erupted online. The next morning I presented at a majority-White high school where the students seemed to be listening but refused to participate…as I walked out of the school, I checked my messages and found one from a student who wanted to know more about self-publishing but was new to the school and too shy to speak up during my talk. So, as always, I hope I planted a few seeds while I was away. I got to see two dear friends—Debbie Reese and Mimi Nguyen—and I connected with authors I don’t generally get to see since I’m not invited to many kid lit events. At the reception for authors held at the university president’s house, I got to meet scholar/author Sonia Rodriguez—once again, she felt like an old friend even though that was the first time we’d met in person. I look at that photo she took and don’t really see a 44-year-old woman, but I’m looking forward to my 45th year. I just received my author copies of Melena’s Jubilee, and Milo’s Museum is with my designer; hopefully that will be ready to share before the month ends. The birthday cards and gifts are already trickling in and I’m thinking of having cake a day early since I’ll be near my favorite bakery later today…

time to talk

It’s up! Please take a moment (9 minutes to be exact) and check out our collaborative article on reparations in the kid lit community. It was published yesterday at Embrace Race, so you should also check out their fundraiser at the bottom. These are difficult conversations but we’ve got to start somewhere, and I’m grateful that my friends—Maya Gonzalez, Neesha Meminger, Cheryl Willis Hudson, Deborah Menkart, and Debbie Reese—shared their insights with me.

My three days in Illinois were great! I’ll blog about the Youth Lit Fest tomorrow…

Midwest love

My three days in Cincinnati were awesome! I don’t think I’ve been back in Ohio since I taught at OU from 2001-2003; I remember being quite lonely then and it was hard to make friends, but this time around I felt more than welcome. This picture really says it all—the more I travel, the more thankful I am to find kindred spirits. I met my co-panelists, Greg Leitich Smith, Sam Bloom, and Alia Jones, for the first time this weekend; we’d previously “met” on social media and corresponded via email, but that’s no guarantee that we would actually connect in person. And yet as soon as I saw Sam coming forward to greet me at his daughters’ school, I felt like I was seeing an old friend. His wife also felt like someone I’d known for a while—it was her birthday and she still came out to see my presentation! Sam and Lisa, his colleague at the Cincinnati Public Library, stayed for my two writing workshops and the sixth-grade students I met were fantastic–full of imaginative ideas. For lunch we met librarian/blogger Edith Campbell and Alia at a lovely tea house where we talked honestly about problems in the kid lit community over scones, sandwiches, and cupcakes.

We had a mild, sunny day for the book festival on Saturday and it was a short walk from the hotel to the convention center. My table mate was friendly and though there were only a handful of PoC in the crowd, I met a few people who were looking for inclusive titles. One Black woman educator wanted a book for her 5th and 6th graders but there were no more copies of Ship of Souls. She bought a copy of Melena’s Jubilee for her reluctant readers and I offered her a postcard that shows all my books. Not surprisingly, she immediately pointed to The Deep and asked, “What’s this one about?” When I told her it’s about a Black girl superhero, she smiled and said, “That one’s for me!” For some reason, that book seems to captivate readers. On Friday at the school, I presented on Bird and Ship of Souls yet a small mixed-race boy with freckles asked me where he could find The Deep. “How old are you?” I asked him. When he said he was nine, I told him he’d be ready for The Deep when he was twelve. But I doubt he’s going to wait that long. The next day he and his mother stopped by my table at the book festival and asked me to sign a copy of Ship of Souls. Then they came back around a few minutes later and asked if they could take a photo with me. As he was leaving, the boy pulled a corner of the book from his plastic bag as if to say, “I really did buy it!” That had me smiling for the next five minutes. Another parent emailed me Saturday morning to thank me for inspiring her son:

Thank you for an amazing visit to Sands Montessori today. My son could not stop talking about your visit. He told me everything from your preschool years, the stolen microwave, saying hello (or was it thank you?) to a swan (was it a swan?), ancient burial grounds to the many books you’ve written. He started looking on Amazon after our conversation to see which books we should buy first!  No author visit has really done this before. He is a great reader and is always willing to read at night before bedtime. Thank you for inspiring him to continue reading and add more books to his library!

During our panel I talked about the systemic problems in the publishing industry, and I often say it will take more than a few “good apples” to turn things around. But that doesn’t mean that individuals are powerless to effect change, and when one person has the courage to go against convention, incredible things can happen. I’m grateful to Sam and the folks at the Cincinnati Public Library for the opportunity to connect with young readers and writers—I hope I planted a few seeds during my time at Sands Montessori. We could have kept on talking but ran out of time for our panel on Saturday; I’m hoping the conversation will continue when my reparations article comes out. The cover art for The Return is done so I need to turn my attention back to that novel. Hopefully I’ll get some hotel writing done while I’m in Illinois! Would love to have it done by my birthday on the 26th…

spotlight

Reading at Franklin Park on Monday night was a little surreal; the lamp next to the table is angled in such a way that you can see your book but can’t see anyone in the audience, so you’re sort of reading “blind.” When I present before kids, I’m used to making eye contact and reading the audience almost as much as I’m reading my book. But I couldn’t read the crowd at Franklin Park and my opening “Good evening” got no response. So it was gratifying when three or four people came up at the end to say that they’d appreciated my reading and my preamble—a rambling introduction where I talked about some of the challenges facing people of color in this country right now. It feels rather self-indulgent to hang out in a bar and read to folks who are drinking, and laughing, and ordering food. The Franklin Parkers are serious about literature, though, and I definitely felt like people were listening even if I couldn’t see their faces. I felt very geeky and dashed off at the end, but lingered to talk to the curator Penina about the state of publishing. We have a lot of work to do! But Penina’s one of those rare White women in the lit community who’s always trying to bring more folks in and keep the door open.

I’m working on that reparations essay once more; I head to Cincinnati tomorrow and for some reason the flight takes up most of the day, so I plan to use all that air(port) time to write. I’m psyched that Maya and Matthew over at Reflection Press have launched their new IndieGoGo campaign for which they developed this amazing graphic:

Some folks like to celebrate “the next Walter Dean Myers” or the latest award-winner who happens to be a person of color. But look at what we really need to achieve equality and justice in the kid lit community—and this is just the number of books. How can we ensure their quality when the industry remains dominated by straight White cisgender women who don’t have disabilities? So much work to be done…we’ll be talking about these issues during our panel for Books by the Banks so if you’re near Cincinnati, do drop in. Our panel starts at 11:30am on Saturday and then (hopefully) I’ll be signing copies of Melena’s Jubilee afterward. Then it’s back to Brooklyn for a couple of days and off to IL for the Youth Lit Fest! Grateful for these opportunities to travel but also looking forward to a couple of weeks at home in November. I need to write! (novels, not essays)

Franklin Park

I just finished Essay #3 and wanted to share a passage that applies to Penina Roth, founder of the Franklin Park Reading Series. I’m one of six readers included in Monday’s lineup, which has a spooky Halloween vibe. The essay I just finished is about my week in Minnesota and I tried to include all the wonderful people and organizations whose sponsorship made my visit possible. Yesterday I received two invitations to present for kids and college students here in NYC—I’m not sure people know how much I appreciate these opportunities to connect with young readers AND earn a living. It’s sort of miraculous that I’ve managed to keep my head above water for the past two years, and it’s because of open-minded folks who are willing to break with convention and give an indie author like me a chance:

I’m grateful for every invitation I receive as an indie author because I recognize the risk a professor, librarian, or educator takes when they open the door to someone deemed by many to be ‘not quite legitimate,’ ‘unaffiliated,’ and/or ‘too provocative.’ The invitations I do receive invariably come from people who share both my commitment to social justice and my love for children from underserved communities who are also underrepresented in children’s literature.

If you’re in NYC, I hope we’ll see you at Franklin Park on Monday night!

Embrace Race

As promised, here’s my conversation with Janine Macbeth of Blood Orange Press. “Healing the Child Within” is live over at EmbraceRace, so stop by! Here’s one question I asked Janine:

ZE: I self-publish with CreateSpace but Blood Orange Press just became an LLC; I only publish my own books but you have a growing list of authors. I often think of us as being on the same team, but traveling different paths. Can you talk about the path you’re on and how you see indie authors like us as being part of a movement?

JM: I was just at a workshop where they were sharing research on the common traits of successful social movements. One commonality between movements that fit their definition of success is that these movements were full of leaders. Power was decentralized and based in community efforts that spread far and wide.

Presses like yours, Reflection Press, School of the Free Mind, and Come Bien Books are only a few examples of efforts to take back our power as self-determining owners and decision makers in our work — to take back our power as storytellers.

I love that we’re just a few freckles or beauty marks in a much larger landscape of efforts for justice in children’s literature. From teachers, to librarians, to after school and community programs, to booksellers and families, and on and on, we’re all part of this ecosystem evolving change. Just thinking about it makes me happy.

 

an embarrassment of riches

What a week! I met some wonderful people at my talk on Monday evening at the Mid-Manhattan branch of the NYPL. Then on Wednesday I talked to wonderful 4th-grade writers at the Countee Cullen School in Harlem. Then yesterday the four bloggers over at Rich in Color posted their insightful discussion of A Wish After Midnight and The Door at the Crossroads, and today they’ve posted an interview where I get to answer a question I posed in the discussion guide for AWAM:

As a teacher and book club member, I appreciated the inclusion of the discussion topics, activities, and research at the end of the books. One of the questions was, “If you could change something in your life simply by making a wish, what would it be?” How would you answer that question?

Whoa–that’s a tough one! I met some teenage girls in DC last summer; they made an awesome video and their wishes were mostly for their families and communities. In this era of Black Lives Matter, it’s hard to put your own needs/desires ahead of others’. As an introvert I wish I had more daring. It’s hard for me to be open, and I’m very protective of my alone time/dream time. I crave security but that’s not the path I’ve chosen. Sometimes I wish I could embrace uncertainty instead of trying to anticipate and avoid problems before they even arise. They say, “Leap and the net will appear!” but that’s hard for me–especially as I get older. I turn 44 next month and find it harder to take risks. I sometimes joke that I’m all about artisanal pickles–I’m happy to bottle them by hand and sell at the local farmers market. Scaling up is hard…

And today I learned that artwork from Melena’s Jubilee is featured in the Children’s Book Council’s Diversity Newsletter! My niece is visiting from Nova Scotia so the next few days will be dedicated to showing her all that NYC has to offer. Tonight I’m working on two essays for Embrace Race; once those are done, I’ll get back to The Return…

support Blood Orange Press!

New Series of Diverse Children’s Books Set to Launch

Oakland Mom Founded Publishing Company to Ensure No More Kids Grow Up with “the Invisibility I Experienced”

OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA – Following the success of its first book, Oh Oh Baby Boy – called “remarkable” by the San Francisco Chronicle — Blood Orange Press is preparing to launch three new titles, expanding its effort to bring diversity in all its dimensions to children’s literature.

The first of the new books, One of A Kind, Like Me / Único Como Yo, written by Laurin Mayeno and illustrated by Robert Trujillo, will be released in late September, with the others following over the next two years.

Oakland native Janine Macbeth, a mother of two, created Blood Orange press out of frustration with the lack of diversity in children’s books. “As a kid I loved books – I mean loved books – so much so that I wanted to make them myself,” she recalls. But seeing the overwhelming whiteness of the children’s book world – from authors and illustrators to the characters portrayed – discouraged her. Still, Macbeth never let go of her dream, piling up experience in design, production and marketing at a variety of publishing firms before launching Blood Orange Press in 2013.

Blood Orange Press seeks to fill a longstanding gap in children’s literature: While over half of U.S. children under age five are children of color, only 15 percent of the kids’ books published last year featured main characters of color. “When children see themselves, their family, their community in books, it tells them that reading belongs in their life,” says Macbeth. “And that can fuel their success for a lifetime.”

School Library Journal praised Oh Oh Baby Boy, written and illustrated by Macbeth, as “emotionally and artistically satisfying … a beautifully conceived and executed book.”

One of A Kind, Like Me / Único Como Yo tells the story of Danny, a multiracial Latinx preschooler who decides to go to the school costume parade as a princess. It’s a gentle story that lifts up children who don’t fit gender stereotypes, and reflects the power of a loving and supportive community. Next up, in late 2017, will be Best Day Ever, in which cultural textile patterns unlock the imaginations of 12 diverse children as they take different journeys to the local park. In 2018, Blood Orange Press will release The Blue Flute, about a young African American girl’s relationship with a magical flute that reveals the music of her city.

To finish funding ongoing production expenses, Macbeth has launched a Kickstarter campaign. The Blood Orange Press Kickstarter page features a video in which Macbeth and the authors of the three new books discuss their vision for a more diverse and inclusive children’s book universe. The campaign includes one unique twist: Instead of choosing a sponsorship reward for themselves, sponsors who wish can instead elect to send books to the school, library, or community-based organization of their choice.

“Blood Orange Press is about creating the books that I missed as a child,” Macbeth says. “My sons are not going to grow up with the invisibility I experienced.”

###

Contact: Janine Macbeth, Publisher, janine@bloodorangepress.com

www.bloodorangepress.com

@BloodOrangePress

I’ll be interviewing Janine in the coming days so stay tuned! And check out this beautiful video she made about the importance of inclusive kid lit.

take care

This morning I went to get my annual mammogram. Part of me wanted to skip the 9am appointment; I’ve had 3 migraines in 5 days—always at night—so I take my medication before crawling into bed and then feel groggy in the morning. But I was more determined to keep the appointment this year because I wanted to get some advice from the nurse. A dear friend has lost two relatives to breast cancer and still won’t schedule a mammogram. I’ve repeatedly sent her information about ScanVan, which covers the cost whether or not you have insurance, but she still hasn’t made an appointment. The nurse today was just as perplexed as I am—why wouldn’t you do something that could save your life? If you can get through a pap smear, you can handle a mammogram, and both ensure that women stay healthy. I’m taking a break from Facebook because there have been several more police shootings and I can’t take the videos, and op-eds, and memes that highlight the uproar over a Black male athlete “taking a knee” versus the silence from so many Whites when yet another unarmed Black man “takes a bullet.” I want to focus on health and healing and how we manage to take care of ourselves and each other despite ongoing attacks against our community. When I met with the incredible young people at Juxtaposition Arts in Minneapolis, they talked about the intent behind the stunning mural they painted outside the center.

With a Black mother and child at the center, the mural memorializes lives lost in the community while also celebrating the achievement and potential of Black women throughout time. I thought of the many RIP murals that crop up here in NYC whenever another Black man is shot, and I was really glad that the young women who developed the mural looked inward as well and came up with ways to promote healing within the arts center. They made a space where guests can feel at ease and be comforted by the art and furnishings of the living room they call “the Blackhouse.” They even made healing kits that contained self-care items like tea bags, and bath salts, and a button like the one pictured above. Art has the power to heal and I know that when I write with murder on my mind, my stories change. Sometimes I let that happen, and sometimes I resist. We’re working on final illustrations for Milo’s Museum, and I got a positive response when I debuted the story last weekend at The Loft Literary Center. I made it very clear that the book still needs a lot of work and this afternoon I’ll be revising the text—again! But the illustrations are really coming along and I love being able to add nuances that a child might not understand but an adult will appreciate. Today Purple sent her first attempt at reproducing the European tradition of including Black servants in portraiture, and I love it! We’re going to mimic the pose in the portrait by having Poppa hold Milo’s hand. THIS is what I need to focus on right now. Half a dozen Black men talked to me as I walked the ten blocks to the clinic this morning; sometimes I responded, sometimes I didn’t because that’s my right. I’m trying to take care of myself this week, and that means being alone, turning inward, and doing things that make me feel valued and safe. Sam Bloom over at Reading While White alerted me to a lovely comment left by a woman who was taken by A Hand to Hold. She called it a “dandelion book”—“one [you]’d blow on, sending the seeds far and wide to rest in libraries and bookshelves everywhere.” And this is why she loved the book:

…some white/nonBlack people, even some lefty, anti-racist white people really do think of Black 3, 4, 5 year olds as baby criminals, or little monsters, or born filled with violence to the point that random white children might be in danger from them. And one of the more horrifying things is, it’s not at all unheard of for small Black children to be treated like that by teachers and others in authority. Not unheard of at all.

And that’s why I love this book. Mind, I am not a librarian or children’s book person, so there may be 1000s of books like this already on the shelves, but I don’t know them. I just know this book at the moment.

But back to why it’s my dandelion book, why I think it’s so important. I went and looked up more about it and throughout the book the little girl is treated by her father as something precious. Loved. Cherished. And her father, of course, is the one doing all the loving and cherishing. And I love that it shows that, but also both the child’s and father’s vulnerability when it’s time to let go, for the little girl to go to school. That’s this precious, loved little just as frightened as all the other children. Just as confused by the big wide world outside of dad and mom’s influence. And just as ready for a friend of any color as most other children are. It frames Black children, this child, in a way they rarely are in children’s or adults literature.

It’s a sunny, warm day so I’m going to go to the botanic garden a little later. I have more to say about my week in Minnesota but Sarah Park Dahlen and I may try to publish a joint account elsewhere so I’ll save the rest for now. WNDB is hosting a #BlackGirlMagic roundtable today—and we definitely need a little magic this week. It’s a great opportunity to hear Black women kid lit authors defining the term and how it operates in their work. Here’s part of the introduction by Dhonielle Clayton:

As an adult looking back, I realize now that my discomfort came from the fact that I couldn’t find myself. I was always the sidekick in books, movies, and TV. Girls who looked like me never got the guy. Seventeen magazine gave tips for the latest hair trends, but they never included my hair texture. I was always pretty for a black girl. I was the smudge.

I needed magic.

I hope a new generation of black girls can cling tight to the novels of the ladies below and start to find themselves in interesting and dynamic new media. I know that if I had had even a few of these books and role models, the teenage me wouldn’t have felt so invisible.

This is a grim moment in our history but we can only move forward if we take care of ourselves and each other. So do what you gotta do…