It must have been 20 years ago (or more) that I learned about Civil Rights activist Mildred Loving, her husband Richard and the couple’s landmark Supreme Court case — Loving v. Virginia — that defeated the state’s ban on interracial marriage.
The couple’s surname — the perfect counter to all the hate and intolerance they faced — naturally stayed with me. And so during Black History Month, when I read about a new children’s book coming out called The Case for Loving: The Fight for Interracial Marriage, I was immediately intrigued.
Then the stars lined up the next month, the day before my birthday, when I went to the Brooklyn Museum to check out the fantastic Kehinde Wiley exhibit with some friends. Guess who was there, in the gift shop, signing copies of their new book?
Of course I made my way over to introduce myself and compliment them on their fine accomplishment! And of course I asked if they’d be down to do an interview with MMM. (That’s how I do for you. Because you know you’re my boo — all of you.)
A quick bit about the talented duo:
Selina Alko was born in Vancouver, Canada, but has lived and worked as an illustrator in New York City for over 20 years. Selina began her children’s book career by illustrating the dynamic New York City-themed children’s books My Subway Ride and My Taxi Ride. She is also the author/illustrator of B is for Brooklyn, Every-Day Dress-Up and Daddy Christmas & Hanukkah Mama.
Sean Qualls has illustrated many highly acclaimed children’s books including Emmanuel’s Dream (The True Story of Emmanuel Ofosu Yeboah) (2015) by Laurie Thompson, Giant Steps to Change the World by Spike Lee and Tonya Lewis Lee, Lullaby by Langston Hughes, and Before John Was a Jazz Giant by Carole Boston Weatherford, which was named a Coretta Scott King Illustrator Honor Book. Sean also created the art for Dizzy by Jonah Winter, which received five starred reviews, and Freedom Song by Sally M. Walker.
Selina and Sean currently live in Brooklyn, NY, with and their two children.
In addition to being sweet, these two are pretty damn smart. Read the Q&A with Q&A and see for yourselves! [WAIT! Did I just coin something? Q&A with Q(ualls) & A(lko)??! King me, people. King me!]
Q. How did you end up writing this book? What drew you to the story and to telling it this way?
Selina Alko: The Lovings’ story has been on our radar since we got married 12 years ago. I toyed with the idea of telling it for older kids (possibly as historical fiction), but settled on doing the simpler picture book format with the idea that this important love story can (and should!) be told to young kids. The challenge was telling it in a simple and fairly digestible way.
Q: Sean, what brought you to children’s book illustration? You’re obviously a huge talent, but was there something about the art form that really appealed to you?
Sean Qualls: When I was first starting out in illustration, I took whatever jobs came my way. I illustrated a lot of stories for magazines. I was unsure where my work fit.
As I did more self-promotion , children’s book publishers started asking to see my portfolio. About a year or so after I was offered my first picture book, I was offered 2 or 3 more. Although I did not set out to illustrate picture books, looking back it makes total sense — my work is more narrative than conceptual and I’m very interested in conveying emotions through my art.
Q: Selina, similar question — what was it about children’s books that drew you in?
SA: Rather than just doing one-off illustrations for editorial jobs, I like having a big project — like a 32- or 40-page picture book — to create a whole world of images in. I also like the idea that picture books are long-lasting and the stories and art can really live on in the imaginations of young children.
Q: How was it working together on this book? Was “division of labor” set out early and you just stayed in your respective lanes? And — not meaning to start trouble here — but did one of you have “veto” power that the other didn’t? Or did you agree to come to all decisions together, consensus across the board?
SA: I like that metaphor of staying in our respective lanes! If only it were that simple … But fortunately, we have separate studios so we did stay in separate spaces while we created, and also fortunately, we have great respect for each other’s decisions. So usually it worked out pretty well to trade off with the art — especially if one of us was stuck on something and needed help.
SQ: Initially, we did have a plan to divide the labor. More often, though, one of us would work on a piece until we got stuck or the other one wanted to work on it. Sometimes it was just a matter of who was more available. We’d have meetings to determine if each piece was going in the right direction, and if not, what needed to be changed. Ultimately, several pieces were cut apart and reassembled. That was fun!
Q: Selina, as a fellow Canadian (yeah!), I’m curious to know if you think your Canadian perspective influences your work as a writer? Did you notice a shift in how race and “the Other” is handled as you moved from a mosaic (Canada) to the melting pot (the States)?
SA: This is a great question, one I haven’t been asked and so I really appreciate it. I grew up in Vancouver, BC, where it was very white and I knew nothing of America’s complicated racial history. My Jewish family raised me to be very open, and I feel that I moved to New York with rose-colored glasses and a perhaps somewhat naive attitude toward race. Living here (for over 20 years now) has been totally eye-opening for me in terms of race, and then marrying Sean even more so! I have learned a lot about African-American history because of Sean, and how racial identity has shaped his entire life and still does so on a daily basis. My Canadian perspective helps keep me optimistic and hopeful (which I think are good things!), but I think I have become more realistic now too. All of these qualities can’t help but permeate my writing and my world view.
Q: If you could boil it down to one message, what do you hope the book says to parents and children?
SA: Change is possible.
SQ: It’s important to stay true to your values.
Q: Screenwriter John Ridley (12 Years A Slave) said that on his new TV show, American Crime, he had “one of the most reflective writing staffs probably working in Hollywood.” He said reflective instead of diverse because he said, “diversity is something we tried to achieve in the ’70s. Right now, organizations need to be in reality, not in diversity.” I really liked “reflective,” because that’s what we’re talking about when we’re pushing this important issue of media representation when it comes to our children of color. These kids need to see themselves represented, reflected in the stories they’re taking in. It’s imperative.
When you set out to tell stories for children, how much does “diversity” weigh on your mind? Is it deliberate or more a case of telling a story from your life experience and worldview, so it will automatically be diverse?
SA: Excellent point. For me, the characters I create and the way I write is partially deliberate (to reflect my own new family), but also in the hopes of reflecting more of an ideal world of integration. I think our neighborhood here in Park Slope, Brooklyn, is fairly diverse (or reflective), but America at large needs to do better.
SQ: This is such a hot topic and I’m really happy that it’s being so widely discussed. I’ve given the subject a lot of thought. I believe diversity for diversity’s sake is okay, I applaud it when it happens. It’s my opinion that everyone is a creator and should create work that reflects them and their reality. Don’t wait for someone else to validate your life in their art. All too often we think validation has to come from outside of ourselves.
Q: What’s your reaction to the criticism that the NYTimes Sunday Book Review voiced in its otherwise favorable review of the book, saying that the “language of colorblindness is at odds with a story about race”?
SA: That criticism was important because it opened my eyes to how I was describing color in Mildred and Richard’s relationship. I may have been projecting some of my own Canadian attitudes about race onto their courtship. I have since worked on a revision of that passage, which will be in a reprint of the book coming out soon. I continue to learn about the complications and subtleties of racial identity and remain open to criticism and feedback as a writer.
SQ: I appreciate what the reviewer had to say. Her criticism makes the mostly enthusiastic review more authentic in my mind.
Q: Have your children seen this book? And if so, what was their reaction?
SA: Yes, they helped us work on it along the way. I think the Lovings story and our art are so much a part of their lives already that it’s hard to see if it phases them at all.
Q: Has you son or daughter shown an early interest in drawing — outside of the usual kid level?
SA: Yes, especially our 9-year-old son. He has always had a phenomenal imagination and meticulous drawing ability.
SQ: Both of our kids love to draw. Our son is almost 10. He sometimes accompanies me to art and craft fairs and sells his drawing alongside me.
Q: As writers and artists, we don’t like to let the steam out from the pot we’re cooking. But can you share a little bit about what you’re each working on next, so we can keep an eye out?
SA: We illustrated another book together on the coattails of THE CASE FOR LOVING called TWO FRIENDS. It’s about the little known friendship between Susan B Anthony and Frederick Douglass. It was super fun to delve into a totally different historical period, and for me to learn even more about American history. Illustrating non-fiction is a constant learning process; one that I just love!
SQ: We just finished work on TWO FRIENDS. Also, I’m working on my first picture book as author and illustrator. It’s about how Africans brought their music with them when they came to America and how the music and the people nourished one another.
So, guess what time it is? At this point, do I really even have to say? Because I think you already know thisssss. Yup. It’s GIVEAWAY TIME! That’s right; one lucky MMM reader will win a copy of Selina and Sean’s lovely book, The Case For Loving, totally gratis. All you have to do is leave a comment below about a children’s book that remains a fave for you. Maybe it’s a book that made you laugh or cry or feel seen and heard — whatever the impact, speak on it here.
The winner will be announced next week! And stay tuned to MMM for a couple more giveaways coming very soon.
Today marks five years of the Ms. Mary Mack blog! Can you believe it? Man. When I think back to where I was five years ago, as a new mom … listen, even I’m giving myself a round of applause. We’ve come a long way, baby. And, more important, we’ve learned and laughed through it all.
(photo by Nicole Blades, Samsung USA Imagelogger)
And you deserve shine, too, friends. Yes, all of you who have supported me and this blog over the last half a decade. I SAID HALF-DECADE. WE OLD, THELMA! Your comments, your “Global Mama tales, your guest posts, your advice, and your willingness to listen and share your stories as we work at this parenthood thing — all of it is priceless, all of it is treasured. Thank you.
To celebrate MMM growing up, I’ve decided to make some changes on the blog. It’s more natural progression than a change. Being honest, I considered shutting the whole thing down and focusing on other projects. But somehow that didn’t feel right.
As I wrote on the homepage (top right-hand column), Ms. Mary Mack began as a parenting blog that tracked the monumental transition from “me to mom,” with the hope of gaining insight, information and wisdom, and passing it along. I still feel that way, that there is insight and intel to gather and share. However, it felt like the scope needed to widened beyond “just” parenting.
That’s because there’s more breadth here.
Six years into being a mother, I’ve changed. We all have. We’ve grown into this integral role of parent with confidence and compassion. So now it’s quite natural to widen the focus of this blog to include the other interests, influences and important parts of our lives. This means pop culture, media, trends, hot takes, photography, all of it. Hey, we may even debate whether red velvet will become the new pumpkin spice. It’s all relevant. It’s all good. And I hope you’ll join me as we keep it moving forward.
A love toast (heh.) to you, my friends. And Happy 5th Blogiversary to us all!
(photo by Nicole Blades, Samsung USA Imagelogger)
Super excited to share my first essay for the Washington Post’s “On Parenting” column. (It’s the first of three that I’m writing for them. Alright, alright, alright!) It’s about talking to my son about God and religion when there are many questions still floating around my own head about the layered subject.
I wrote the essay earlier in the year and it just posted Monday. As it happened, I ended up having a conversation about God, “Baby Jesus who grew up to be an adult” and religion with my son over the weekend as we flipped through a Williams-Sonoma catalogue that featured every Easter Bunny-related thing you could think up.
We snuggled up chatting about LEGOs and springtime and jellybeans, and it just felt like a good time to angle the convo towards something with a little bit more heft. I started by talking about Easter and the different ways people celebrate it. So, this meant touching on the chocolates and sweets-fest that trails behind the Easter Bunny these days. From there, we quickly moved into faith and talking about those ideas that people believed to be true and take very seriously.
The Youngster asked smart questions, but his queries mainly came down to, What does [new word] mean? So I found myself explaining, in terms a sharp 6-year-old could follow, things like sin; heaven and the afterlife; Christianity, Judaism and Islam; agnosticism (which I instead called “being unsure and still thinking it over”); faith and worship; and — the one thing I was slightly uneasy about — crucifixion. Through all of it, my son listened well and I could see his little mind working to make it make sense for himself. He also added that one of his buddies “believes all of this,” which underscored for me the fact that he’s aware, astute and ready for these more intricate conversations.
I expect this child to come back to me with more involved questions; some that might even send me off to research a proper answer. And I look forward to it. It’s his keen interest in the world around him that keeps me curious and alert, too. Good things to be in 2015, I say.
Below is the essay in full, which was originally posted on WaPo.com’s “On Parenting.” Please click over there. Every click helps! Thanks.
By Nicole Blades
Santa Claus was easy. But Jesus Christ, Son of God? Now, that’s going to take some work.
It was about three years ago when my son started floating questions my way in earnest about ol’ Kris Kringle. His questions were leading, though. It was as if he already knew the answer about where the gifts actually came from, and my husband and I were merely confirming it for him. I was fine telling my then toddler son that Santa Claus was just a fun, charming story. And putting the focus of family, kindness and love around Christmas came naturally for me, for us. However, with Easter on its way and my son soon turning 6, my old anxieties around religion—that is to say, how I feel about what’s real and what’s story—are starting to bubble up.
You see, while my husband is a longtime agnostic, I am a believer, but no longer a churchgoer. Although I pray or, moreover, talk to God in my own way, I’ve purposely stepped away from organized religion and have a lot of issues with The Church — issues that make me uncomfortable even referring to myself as a Christian anymore. It doesn’t feel truthful, and doesn’t line up with my worldview. I’ve even started to bristle at trotting out the spiritual but not religious line; it feels overused and a little wishy-washy. But I do want to be the one to talk to my son about God before things get complicated. And I’m trying to reconcile how I feel about God and religion—or at least begin the process—so that I can honestly venture into the potentially layered conversation with my son.
I don’t want these holidays for us to be purely secular, spilling over with sweets, treats, gifts, and trinkets. (Step off, Easter Bunny.) Instead, I want them to be steeped in something more meaningful to our family. Does this mean incorporating religious practices, prayer or worship? Maybe? No? I don’t know. And this is where the apprehension sets in: I believe there are definite lessons to be learned about faith, forgiveness, and compassion from the story of Jesus. But how do I invoke God into our traditions around holidays like Easter without being disingenuous or resting on a pretense that I subscribe to some of the more “magical-thinking” aspects of Bible stories?
I guess it starts with faith…in myself as a parent who can indeed raise a moral child without needing to quote Bible verses. I do believe that there’s a larger force, a greater being that exists beyond our known world, but I don’t want to pour my ideas over this child. He can look to science for cold, hard facts about the tactile world, and that doesn’t preclude him from incorporating ethics like The Golden Rule (a.k.a. Just Don’t Be a Jerk) into the way he moves through that same world.
It’s about holding fast to a belief that I can influence and help shape his young mind by letting my life be the lesson. How do I treat people I care about—and maybe more important, the ones that I’m not too fond of? Am I striving for happiness in my life? Do I put love first? Does my word mean something? Have I allowed passion and integrity to guide me instead of guilt and shame? These are the kinds of things that I think about, when I think about God. They aren’t linked to any Bible stories about sacrificial lambs. It’s not me trying to untangle the doctrine of the Trinity in language that a 6-year-old can understand (or a 60-year-old, mind you, because, listen, consubstantiality is one hard nut to crack). And it’s definitely not throwing the convenient blanket of “For the Bible tells me so” over anything that might be difficult to unpack or explain.
Maybe the way to smooth out the rough edges around how I feel about God and religion is to not mark that as the goal. Instead of trying to make it all make sense for my kid—and me—perhaps I need to leave it open-ended, create plenty of space for us to figure it out on our own time and in our own way. And if that means gray areas, question marks, differences of opinions and doubts, so be it.
Nicole Blades is an author and freelance journalist who writes about motherhood and race, identity, culture, and technology. Her second novel, The Thunder Beneath Us (Kensington), will be published next year. Follow her on Twitter @NicoleBlades.
I celebrated my birthday last weekend, March 8th. It was sweet and fun; I definitely felt loved and appreciated. But over the last seven years there’s this thing that starts to flood my mind a few weeks out from my birthday. Truth told, sometimes it starts to seep in a good month before. It’s this weird heaviness that’s tinged with disquiet; a dash of gloominess and too many deep sighs that leaves me feeling out of sorts for brief moments before bouncing back into contentment.
The brooding is essentially about time moving too fast and feeling like I’m getting old. Older. Old. Closer to “the end.” It’s not that I have regrets or dreams that I’ve abandoned and now I fear that I’m running out of time. No, it’s the opposite: I’m so grateful for my life, my family, my choices. All of those things make me feel fulfilled, happy, and like I’m truly getting better with age — learning more, seeing more, doing more, understanding more, and just growing.
But I still can’t seem to shake this weird thing that starts brewing in the last weeks of February.
Then this morning, I saw this wonderful NYTimes piece from 2012, An Illustrated Talk with Maurice Sendak. And through sniffles and watery eyes, I can almost feel the heaviness lifting, melting away, evaporating for good.
“There’s something I’m finding out as I’m aging, that I’m in love with the world. … It is a blessing to get old. It is a blessing to find the time to do the things, to read the books, to listen to the music.” — Maurice Sendak
So as I start this new day, a full week after my birthday, I plan to keep these simple but profound words of Maurice Sendak‘s close to the surface: “Live your life, live your life, live your life.”