1.20.2009 #2

Journal sketch  
From Orange, Section 12

1.20.2009

We Were There, Together

We were there,

pressed together as once we

packed the holds of separate ships,

the stolen or the fleeing;

Now

squeezing closer

to make room in the subway car

unwilling to leave even one behind.

We were there,

waiting together as once we

shuffled in the desperate lines,

hungry for food or for work,

driven from our lands,

picket lines and protest lines;

Now

turning smiling faces to those

in front and behind,

"Where are you all from?" -

from Florida, from Washington, from Maine.

We were there,

all our differences together where once we

were divided by the devil's game

of measuring humanity in fractions,

by the terrible chasm between owner and owned

and the loss of soul in the gap;

Now

gloriously gathered,

multicolored, multicultured,

multifaith multitudes,

a hand-lettered poster proclaiming,

"The Re-United States."

We were there,

rising together,

emerging into the sun from the long, dark passage,

summoned by the shared need to be present for this January day

linking hands and lifting hearts,

the swelling tide of feeling 

spilling tears over the lip of our eyes,

so many assembled that the generated heat

shimmered in the air above us.

This is what we have won:

ourselves and each other,

to fiercely hold these truths,

to keep our eyes and our hearts open,

to see ourselves in each other

in our schools, our streets and our prisons

and so, together,

there is work to be done

so much good

work to be done.

3. Welcoming Critique

In 1999, more than two years into the creation of Africa is Not a Country, we - authors Margy Burns Knight and Mark Melnicove, and I, the illustrator -  realized we needed more help. 

The task of representing the immense diversity of the African continent in a picture book for U.S. children was a daunting one, especially for three white Americans from Maine. Each of us had lived and/or traveled in a region of Africa. We'd gathered and incorporated stories of daily life in various African countries from individuals who'd grown up in those countries, consulted experts in African Studies, and done gobs of research. We expected to complete the book by the publisher's deadline.

Then, at an ESL workshop she was presenting, Margy shared the concept for the book and our plan for listing the languages spoken in each country. A Somali woman challenged her: "Which language will you list first? The colonial one or a traditional one? How will you define a language?" Margy brought the questions back to our team and we decided to get more input on the book as a whole, especially concerning issues we hadn't even considered.

We asked Grace Valenzuela of Portland Public School's Multilingual Program if she could gather a group of Africans living in Maine to critique our work in progress. She agreed - if we'd be willing to have the discussion in public and open it to educators. We were excited about the prospect, but a little nervous as well, aware that the panelists might have serious criticisms or even tell us to abandon the project altogether.

Six generous people, from Sudan, Somalia, Liberia, Nigeria, and the Congo, agreed to serve on our panel. They each received copies of the working text and sketches to peruse in advance. Before an audience of about fifty classroom teachers and ELL specialists, we presented an overview of the book including a number of finished paintings. Then we sat down to listen to the panel's responses.

They had a lot of strong suggestions, including some pointed criticisms. They showed us things we couldn't possibly have seen on our own. Overall, they recommended that we strive for balance between contrasts to represent the complexity of the African continent. Some of these contrasts included the traditional and the contemporary; national identity and tribal identity; poverty and abundance; and the urban and the rural. 

For example, the story we'd chosen from Mali described the journey of salt from the desert by camel to the city of Timbuktu, by cab to the docks on the Niger River, by boat to the city of Mopti, and by truck to markets in neighboring countries. "Why are you continuing to stereotype?" one panelist asked. In my sketch I'd only shown the camels, conveying the impression of a culture with no modern forms of transportation. 

The critique by the panelists was invaluable to our efforts to authentically depict the daily lives of children in African countries. Some of their advice required major reworking, but to our relief they encouraged us to continue with the project. All of their input contributed to making a stronger book. 

(For terrifc advice on what not to do, see this satirical essay, "How To Write About Africa," by Binyavanga Wainaina.)