Zetta Elliott's Blog, page 71

rainy night in Charleston

Timing is everything, right? Just before I left for the airport, I checked my email and found some bad news. “If you don’t listen, you’ll feel”—I tell my students that at the start of every semester, and yet here I am nearing 40 and I *still* have not learned to listen to *myself*. I remember having a debate with my therapist once over boundaries—she felt I wasn’t forceful enough when drawing that line in the sand, and I insisted that the people in my life merely swept the line aside. I don’t have problems setting boundaries, I have trouble POLICING my own boundaries once they’ve been set. I said no to a project several months ago, but the editors kept pressing and so I relented and spent a good portion of my summer working on an academic essay. It’s way over the word limit but I think it’s pretty good, and yet today I learned that the editors would like me to remove all traces of my “personal history.” In other words, “Don’t act like you’re a writer. Just be a scholar. Act like you didn’t write the two books you’re analyzing.” I *almost* sent off a terse reply but decided to wait, which meant I drafted endless imaginary emails in my mind during the flight from NYC to Charleston. Then I opened the door to my room here at the hotel and forgot about the endless pressure within academia to be something—someone—other than WHO I AM. I don’t know why I keep ending up in hotel rooms with canopy beds; I actually have a four-poster bed back in Brooklyn, but this feels so much more luxurious. My faculty grant is paying for this trip so I figured I might as well stay in a nice hotel. I keep thinking of that episode of Miranda where her friends seem to have more exciting lives so she claims she’s taking an exotic vacation but really just checks into a nearby hotel. Have you discovered the comic genius of Miranda Hart yet? Here’s a taste, in case you don’t happen to watch PBS on Friday nights…

at a loss

My syllabi are done. My home workspace is almost in order—the second filing cabinet arrives today and once it’s assembled I’ll be done with the thigh-high stack of paper on the floor. Next week advising starts and then I head to South Carolina to conduct research for Judah’s Tale before classes start on the 28th. But right now I’m at a loss for words. On Monday I met with Ed Spicer and he told me about an amazing, innovative activity he does with his first graders. For five minutes, the children are allowed to daydream—no prompts, no guidelines, just time to sit and dream. Then when the five minutes are up, the children share their dream with a partner and the partner suggests ways to extend the dream. I often tell people that writing is 70% dreaming. And most days, I’m fine with that. But when you want the words to come and they don’t…you have to take a deep breath, close your eyes, and keep on dreaming…

the Caribbean Adventure Series

Last month I had the pleasure of meeting Carol Ottley-Mitchell, author and publisher of the Caribbean Adventure Series. Carol kindly agreed to answer a few questions about her books and her role as publisher/promoter of Caribbean children’s literature.

Describe your evolution from reader to writer to publisher–did any particular book inspire you as a child? Why write for children and why focus on the Caribbean?

Evolution…perfect description. I read voraciously as a child, everything I could put my eyes on. My drive to write my own books developed when I had my children. They inherited my love of reading and fell in love with Roald Dahl, the Magic Tree House, and many others. I wanted them to also read books that reflected their heritage, so I searched for books with children of color and—even more importantly to me—children of the Caribbean. I was frustrated with the choices. There are good Caribbean-based books for children out there, but I found that many of the ones I came across were difficult to read or emphasized stereotypes that were not necessarily a part of how I saw myself as a Caribbean person. The straw that broke the camel’s back may have been one book, I believe it was a Macmillan publication, in which a family was having a snack and the children were snickering about what Daddy was drinking, which turned out, from the illustration, to be “Rum.” I could not see how this added value to a story aimed at 6-year-olds and I determined to do better.

I went up to Brimstone Hill in St. Kitts (one of my favorite places in the world) one April and I thought—what a great place for a kid to have an adventure, and the Caribbean Adventure Series was born!

The second reason that I write about the Caribbean is that I believe in writing about what I know. I have lived in the US on and off for 15 years, but I have never quite assimilated. I would not feel comfortable writing about a society that I appreciate but often don’t understand. This may also explain why after living for three years in Ghana, I have only written one story set in Africa.

African American author Sherley Anne Williams once despaired that there was nowhere in the past she could go (as a black woman) and be free. Your three black child protagonists journey into the past but race never seems to be a problem for them–even in the 1600s. How do you want black children to relate to the past?

The first book in the Caribbean Adventure Series, Adventure at Brimstone Hill, kind of wrote itself. There was never a drawing board with a master plan of how it would end. Not the textbook approach to writing, I know. When I got to the point where the children travel into the past and meet the British General, I was stuck for quite a while. It wasn’t writer’s block; I was battling with a big question. How would a white General react to two black children showing up in his office with a monkey, no less? Did I want to introduce a discussion of slavery and black-white relations into this particular book? I decided to stick to my plan to create a light book that portrayed children in the Caribbean the way that they may see themselves. Many black Caribbean children have the benefit of growing up in an environment where they are the majority, where the successful adults around them also look like them. So it would be natural for the children to meet a Caucasian on their island and question his legitimacy rather than their own.

While the Caribbean Adventure Series is not intended to influence how children relate to the past from the point of view of race, it does reflect how I would recommend that our children relate to their past. It is important for children to understand why we of African descent are in the Caribbean, not in a way that engenders bitterness or self-hatred, but in a way that develops the self-confidence that comes with knowing one’s history.

What are the greatest rewards and the biggest challenges of being a publisher?

Rewards? The children, always the children. When we were in Ghana, children who had read the books or been at one of my readings would approach me to compliment the books or to say “Auntie, when is the next book coming out?” This never gets old and makes my day, perhaps my year, and inspires me to keep writing and to keep looking for good children’s books to publish.

Challenges? How much time do I have? Just kidding. If I had to pick one thing, I would say that the biggest challenge is marketing. Now that my publishing company CaribbeanReads has six books in distribution, we have a good understanding of the process of getting the books from raw manuscript to the press. The difficult part, once you have the book, is to get the word out that you have published a fantastic book and to get people (besides your family and friends) to buy a copy.

What is your vision for the future re: literacy in the black community and/or the African diaspora?

The future of literacy in the African diaspora has to be viewed from both a demand and a supply side. We need to read, read, read. As black people, we often have to overcome initial expectations about our abilities and our level of intelligence. We should not overcompensate, but we need the tools to ensure that when we go into that job interview, into the board room, or show up for school that we can contribute in a way that forces others to forget their preconceptions and question their prejudices. Being able to speak intelligently about our area of expertise and more is an important part of that and reading widely helps.

On the supply side, we need to have more books written that portray black people—our past, our present, and our future—in a balanced, reality-based light.  I remember a friend of mine from Ghana saying that from years of watching African soap operas, she thought that relationships were supposed to be male-dominated and violent and so accepted such relationships as being natural. What we read about ourselves and how we see ourselves portrayed affects our psyche. No race is uniform and our literature should reflect that.

It has been great chatting with you!

Carol is an Information Technology professional. Her main profession is as General Manager of Leyton Microcomputer Services, an Information Technology firm based in St. Kitts. Born in Nevis, Carol has lived in several Caribbean countries. She spent a large part of her formative years in Trinidad, where one of her favorite pastimes was competing with her father to see who could compose the best humorous lyrics to existing songs. This was just the beginning of her interest in creative writing. Currently, Carol lives and writes in Virginia. Carol is married with two children who are her inspiration and her biggest critics. (Author Photo by Jaxon Photography)

black dog

Found a photo online of a “black dog” coin. It seems they took these French coins, stamped “Nevis” or “N” on them, and they then circulated as 7 black dogs instead of 7 sous:

 

break

I’m thinking about taking a break from the blog. Spoke with my cousin a few days ago and she’s worried that I’m putting too much of myself “out there.” The internet can create a false sense of intimacy, and I definitely don’t want some psycho latching onto me because of what I write on my blog. But I also don’t want to feel like I can’t be myself online…to quote June Jordan, “Who the hell set things up like this?” Not me. I’ve got novels to write so maybe taking a break isn’t such a bad thing. Right now I’m reading Vincent Hubbard’s Swords, Ships & Sugar: History of Nevis to 1900. And I had to stop and blog because I just found a possible clue—in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, Nevis used silver coins issued by France for use in their Caribbean and South American colonies. These coins—”sous”—were also called “black dogs” by locals. If the enslaved woman I discovered in the 1817 slave register was 60 years old at the time, she would have been born around 1757. Could her unusual name somehow be linked to these coins? So many possibilities…

Just booked my last trip of the summer, but will keep that to myself for now. Back to the book…

SCBWI’s On-The-Verge Emerging Voices Award

I heard this award was coming and now it’s official:

August 5, 2012, LOS ANGELES­­­­­­­­­-­–The Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) announced the creation of the On-The-Verge Emerging Voices Award at their 41st Annual Conference in Los Angeles.  The annual award, established by SCBWI and funded by Martin and Sue Schmitt, will be given to two writers or illustrators who are from ethnic and/or cultural backgrounds that are traditionally under-represented in children’s literature in America and who have a ready-to-submit completed work for children.  The purpose of the grant is to inspire and further the emergence of diverse writers and illustrators of children’s books.

The work will be judged by an SCBWI committee and two winners will each receive an all-expenses paid trip to the SCBWI Winter Conference in New York to meet with editors and agents, a press release to all publishers, a year of free membership to SCBWI, and an SCBWI mentor for a year. Deadline for submission is November 15, 2012.  The winners will be announced December 15, 2012. The On-The-Verge Emerging Voices Award will be presented at the 2013 SCBWI Winter Conference in New York.  Submission guidelines and information can be found here.

heeding the call

I thought I might need a day to settle in but the more I travel, the easier it is to move between worlds. Dreamt about Brown Hill last night; Mrs. Daniel took me on a tour of the village the night before I left Nevis, and so I have a somewhat shadowy sense of the place. I remember steep hills and fenced yards, and tree frogs (called “crapauds” by the locals) sitting in or hopping across the road, land crabs frozen in the car’s headlights, and packs of donkeys ambling by while passing cars slammed on the brakes. Brown Hill is also home to Brown Hill Communications, a call center for Bell Canada. Maybe that’s what makes it so easy to move between my various “homes”—they’re all connected. At the airport this time I *did* pick up a SKN key chain. Back in June I decided I wasn’t enough of a patriot to flash the flag, but now…I don’t know. On my way to the airport on Wednesday I met with three members of the Slave Route Project curriculum committee and it looks like I may have a chance to take an active role in helping to develop lesson plans and train teachers. Which would be awesome, except for one thing: I have a full-time job here in NYC. Still, I’m going forward with my citizenship application; I applied for my long-form birth certificate this morning, which should list my father’s name, and picked up my letter of good conduct from One Police Plaza this afternoon. Looking at these great photos from Monday morning’s workshop makes me wonder how effective I’d be in a Caribbean classroom. Kids are kids but there are cultural differences to consider along with my own lack of teacher certification. Loving to teach doesn’t necessarily make me qualified to develop and/or deliver a brand new curriculum, even though I’m passionate about the subject of slavery. When I led my postcard workshop on Monday, I couldn’t get the kids to share their work…usually there are more hands in the air than I can call on, but this group was more reserved—maybe because they didn’t know me or each other. Instead they just worked quietly and diligently, raising their hand or softly calling “Teacher!” when they had a question. And when you’re summoned, you have to respond. Teachers teach. I’m just not sure I can manage to teach all these subjects and all these students at the same time. But I guess I can try…

let it rain

When I was here in June, I asked when it rains in Nevis. The answer must be: July. My morning hike was canceled due to the rain, and I sat on the porch trying to wait out the downpour before venturing into town anyway to submit my citizenship application. There’s a bit of a problem: my father was born an Elliott but changed his name to Hood, and I was born a Hood but added Elliott to my name. I’ve got documentation to support my name change, but nothing to prove that my father really is my father. I guess I’ll have to check with the Canadian government. Right now I’m content to just sit here in the dark listening to the rain and the occasional crack of thunder. I’ve packed my suitcase, which is mostly empty and very light now that all the books are gone. I gave my last copy of Bird to my cutest cousin in Nevis, Yakira. What a sweetheart! She made her own little book by copying down the lyrics to a hymn she sang at church, and she made me a postcard in yesterday’s workshop for kids. When I asked her what games she liked to play, Yakira said sometimes she ties a sheet around her shoulders and pretends to be a superhero! Not a princess, a SUPERHERO. Clearly, we share the same genes! I had lunch at my cousin Rodney’s restaurant with another cousin I recently met, Clayton. He’s a poet who spent a good portion of his life in Toronto. We talked about what it takes to be an artist in a small place, and I told him about my afternoon talk yesterday where the issue of “deviance” came up. I presented on The Hummingbird’s Tongue to a small but diverse group of Nevisians, most of whom are writers themselves, and we speculated on the perception of mental illness in the 1940s. Another cousin recalled knowing of people who were “off” when she was growing up, but neighbors knew how to “call them back” (sometimes by sprinkling the person with water, sometimes by just softly calling their name). So you had to be pretty far gone to be sent to the asylum in Antigua, though Steve Manners (far left) recalled that anyone who didn’t follow the strict moral code in Nevis could also be “shipped off”  back in the day…

Ok, it’s late and I need to crash. Rodney sent me home with two extra johnny cakes but I only had room for one—they’re SO good! And she rightly pointed out that I’ve gained weight since my visit last month…Rodney’s an amazing cook—and a peace broker here in Nevis, where political tensions are high. We also share a love of birds…so good to meet so many kindred spirits here in Nevis!

This evening my host, Mrs. Sonita Daniel, came by bearing gifts—a lovely hand-painted tile with a traditional Nevisian home pictured on the front. Then she drove me over to Brown Hill, the village where my father grew up. We saw the Pilgrim Holiness church he attended, the community center, and many of these small wooden homes that look to me like the perfect writer’s abode. Maybe one day I’ll have a little home of my own here…

favorite pix

Woke up early to go for a run but we have stormy weather here today. So instead I uploaded about 30 photos to my Facebook account. Here are some of my favorites:

blessed

That’s how I feel. Not because I attended church at 8:30 this morning for the first time in…ages. Not because my aunt keeps the TV tuned to a Christian station, so while eating the delicious black-eyed peas and rice she made especially for me, I actually heard 3 additional sermons. Not because I slept through the nights without being woken by a barking dog or crowing rooster. I feel blessed because when I went for a run yesterday morning and wasn’t sure just where I was, I saw a sign that said Craddock Road and instantly oriented myself because I knew that was where my step-grandmother grew up. I feel blessed because when I step out on my terrace, I have a stunning view of Nevis Peak (and a flamboyant tree)—but am not overcome with guilt when I choose to spend the afternoon indoors working on a novel set in Brooklyn. I don’t feel rushed this time around; nothing feels as urgent (because I know I’ll be back soon) and more things seem possible. Last night, after facilitating a workshop for parents at the Prospect Community Center, one of the participants thanked me for coming and concluded her remarks with, “Welcome home!” And I blurted out that this trip has truly made me feel at home here in Nevis—I’m still an outsider, I’m still learning the history and the culture and the customs. But I’m also being myself. And when you can be who you are—your true self—and feel that you are accepted by others, that’s when you know you’re home. In that community center, when I was surrounded by mothers who formed a book club in order to learn how to develop a love of books in their children, I felt like I had something to offer. I brought the books I purchased in NYC and spread them out on two tables; then I asked each person to take no more than one minute to look the books over and select one that jumped out at her. It was so interesting to see their selections—and flattering, too, since three of them selected books I’d written and self-published! We talked about how to extract meaning from a book cover or title in order to attract a child’s attention, and we talked about how to read so that the child’s curiosity is piqued. Then I handed out copies of Ship of Souls and read part of a chapter aloud. The women then voted to make SoS their first book club selection (bumping The Wonderful Wizard of Oz to September)! I think I’m going to start a book drive. So all my author-friends out there will be willing to donate a copy of their book to the fledgling children’s library at Prospect Community Center. We need art up on the walls and shelves and books to put on the shelves…and a few computers couldn’t hurt. Sunday is a day of rest but tomorrow there will be work to do! I’m giving three presentations at the credit union tomorrow. Even if only a couple of kids show up, I’ll still feel blessed because I’ve found a way to be useful to my new community. [Photograph of the Nevis Book Fair by Ryan D. Maynard/ Refined Digital Media]