up, up, and away
On Monday I had orientation for my summer job with BookUP NYC. Fellow author Sofia Quintero had been trying to bring me on board for some time, and it felt wonderful to walk into the National Book Foundation offices and immediately see familiar faces: Eisa Ulen, Daniel José Older, and I got a big hug from Elisha Miranda. Everyone was warm and friendly, and eager to provide tips to those of us who are new to the program. I’ll be working with 20 middle school students in Jackson Heights; I taught in Queens years ago and loved it so I’m hopeful about this new gig. And who wouldn’t want to get young readers excited about books? After orientation ended I walked over to campus and packed some personal items from my office. My hard drive is being wiped so I ensured I had all the files I needed and then I made a mental note of the number of boxes I’ll need to ship all my books back to Brooklyn. From campus I walked to the bank and deposited a check from a Canadian school that ordered my new books. Earlier in the day I spoke with a publisher who wants to acquire one of my picture book manuscripts; it’s tight, but I’m hoping we can get this book out for Spring 2015. I’m also working with a talented illustrator, Bek Millhouse, on another picture book that I plan to publish at summer’s end. Over the course of that one day I felt myself transitioning into my “new” life. The professor hat is coming off…
The next day I packed and went to the airport, ready to shift from the familiar to the unfamiliar. I’ve been anxious about this trip because I’ve never traveled to Africa on my own; my limited French made it hard to do preliminary research and I worried I had too many days and too few plans. Yet when I reached the gate at JFK, I was immediately struck by the number of children traveling with their parents—an observation I also made when traveling to Nevis for the past few summers. That, of course, made me think of my father and his refusal to take any of his kids “back home.” I see Keem’s relationship with his emotionally distant father being central to this new novel, and I think I’ll wind up using all the details of my flight to plot the first chapter of The Return. It was interesting to see some children dressed in their best clothes—suits for the littlest boys and frothy dresses for the girls. Others girls wore sequined head scarves and the older kids wore the stylish clothes of typical American teenagers. Two men removed their shoes and prayed on the carpet in a less crowded corner of the waiting area. I kept wondering what Keem would make of the scene. He’s 17, heading to Senegal for the first time. Would he feel like he belonged? Or would he experience the envy I always feel when I see small children “going home” with their parents? I was also struck by the Black woman working behind the desk at the gate; she seemed annoyed and managed to remain professional but clearly didn’t have much respect for the lively crowd waiting to board the plane. I found myself wondering if she was African American and what opinions of Africans she might hold. The shrieking toddler seated behind me on the plane had surprising stamina for a late night flight but she finally fell asleep and when the plane landed this morning, the first thing I saw out the window was a large sculpture on a distant hill. The feminist critique of the statue by Senegalese scholars is interesting and I don’t think I need a closer view. So far today I’ve booked a tour guide for tomorrow, changed 
some dollars into francs, and paid a hotel clerk for getting me an adapter for the electrical outlet. I forgot my camera so I’ve been snapping shots on my phone but I have no internet connection on it so I can’t share photos while I’m here (I pulled these off the web). Tomorrow’s my tour and on Friday morning I meet two women who work for Tostan, a progressive community development organization that also works to end female genital cutting. This afternoon I took a short nap and elevated my feet since my ankles are swollen; I think room service is next, a couple hours of writing, and then an early bedtime. There’s a nice patio but it’s really humid outside and that just makes me even more drowsy. This trip was made possible by a grant from my college—quite a generous parting gift! I’m an anxious traveler but I realize there’s really no need to fear the unfamiliar because if you take a moment and look around, you’ll probably find it’s more familiar than you first thought…
