My grandmother was an ardent admirer of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. A “colored” woman raised in Canada to pass for white, my grandmother proudly displayed a framed copy of Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech on the wall of her home. As a teenager in Toronto I took a class on American history in order to learn more about the “Negro” ancestors my grandmother so often discussed, and I was devastated when she made a gift of the speech to my frivolous older sister. I was the one teaching the Civil Rights Movement to my high school classmates; I was the one who could recite portions of the speech by heart. My grandmother did give me her carefully preserved copy of Life magazine and though I admired Mrs. King’s sorrowful yet elegant profile, I still harbored resentment over the allocation of the speech. That piece of parchment went from a place of honor in my grandparents’ manse to the wall of my sister’s apartment; it hung next to the stereo, which blared lyrics by Jay-Z that would have made Mrs. King blanch. It took years for me to realize that my grandmother gave Dr. King’s speech to the granddaughter who needed it most. I wrongly thought that my investment in social justice entitled me to inherit the framed speech, but my grandmother knew that I was ready for something more and she was right—by my last year of college I was critiquing the “I Have a Dream” speech in the campus newspaper.
Since penning that editorial twenty years ago I have worked to develop my skills as a black feminist cultural critic. In 1994 I reversed the migration that brought my African American ancestors to Canada in 1820. Unfortunately my grandmother passed in 2002, months before I earned my PhD in American Studies from NYU; my dissertation, which focused on representations of racial violence in African American literature, was dedicated to her. I currently teach courses on race, gender, and sexuality in the Center for Ethnic Studies at BMCC, a community college in lower Manhattan that serves mostly immigrant and working-class students of color. Many are reluctant readers and so I’ve had to develop innovative ways of introducing them to black literature, which they wrongly expect to be irrelevant, outdated, and uninteresting. In addition to my teaching I’ve published scholarly essays, short fiction, and poetry in various anthologies, and my plays have been staged in New York, Chicago, and Cleveland. I’ve also published three books for young readers—one of which, BIRD, won numerous awards after its publication in 2008, including a Coretta Scott King/John Steptoe Award for New Talent for the illustrator, Shadra Strickland. Though she hoped at least one of her grandchildren would follow in her footsteps and become a preacher, overall I think my grandmother would approve.
I speak to hundreds of school children every year and my author presentation always begins with the shiny stickers on the cover of BIRD. Here in the US, children always know who Coretta Scott King was and they know that, like her husband, she believed in justice and equality for all. We talk about the way awards draw attention to a particular book and often ensure that it won’t go out of print. Then I ask the children to guess how many books are published in the US each year. Once we settle on the figure (about 5,000), I ask the children to guess what percentage of those books have black authors. They’re natural optimists, children. Most of the students I meet attend majority-black schools—urban schools that are just as segregated as those that predate the Civil Rights Movement—and it’s not uncommon for them to have black-authored books in the classroom. So there are always gasps of amazement when I hold up three fingers and inform them that less than 3% of all the children’s books published each year are written by authors who look like them. I add that Asian American, Latino, and Native American authors each represent less than 1% of the total, leaving 95% of all books for children written by members of one racial group. “Does that sound fair to you?” I ask and invariably I hear a chorus of indignant NOs in response.
When I saw the list of CSK Award recipients on Monday, I wondered what Coretta Scott King would think. I never had the privilege of meeting Mrs. King and all I know about the award is what I’ve read on the ALA website. I know that in 2009 the CSK Book Award celebrated its fortieth anniversary, and I do believe that black authors and illustrators are better off today than they were in the “all-white world of children’s books” of the 1970s. But when we look at the small number of authors and illustrators who seem to win a CSK Award year after year after year, are we looking at a picture of real diversity? Is the award helping to increase the overall pool of black authors and illustrators, or is it merely upholding the status quo by feeding a few big fish in a very small pond? Publishers no doubt realize the committee’s seeming preference for books about Dr. King and Rosa Parks and (a few) other historical figures. Does an editor’s desire to win yet another shiny sticker deter her from publishing other authors of other kinds of books that also “demonstrate an appreciation of African American culture and universal human values?”
The soft-minded man always fears change. He feels security in the status quo, and he has an almost morbid fear of the new. For him, the greatest pain is the pain of a new idea.
Self-published author and quilter Kyra Hicks has conducted an analysis of the award recipients and her findings indicate that the past four decades have produced a sort of winners club, an African American artistic elite whose insider status affords them creative opportunities too often denied their emerging and/or aspiring peers. It would seem as if the John Steptoe Award for New Talent, “occasionally given for young authors or illustrators who demonstrate outstanding promise at the beginning of their careers,” was developed to help remedy this situation and yet it was not given out in 2011 or 2012, which puzzles me. The African American authors and illustrators at The Brown Bookshelf annually publish a list of 28 contributors to the field of black children’s literature. Is it possible that the CSK Book Awards Committee found no one worthy of recognition for two consecutive years?
Perhaps it is easier to look backward at the past, which is familiar and safe, than it is to look forward where new possibilities—frightening to some—extend across the shifting terrain of the future. Yet the recent presidential election revealed the danger (and ultimate futility) of holding onto a romanticized version of the past, and the 2008 election of Barack Obama demonstrated that eventually the old guard must yield to the new. The publishing world is gripped by upheaval right now and many steadfastly cling to old models for fear of embracing innovation and developing new traditions that will respond to and reflect the realities of the twenty-first century. With so-called minorities expected to make up the majority of the US population in thirty years (minority babies already constitute the majority), what can the CSK Book Awards Committee do to ensure that equity—an ideal cherished by Dr. and Mrs. King—is not undermined by the children’s publishing industry? If 95% of children’s book authors were men, white women across the country would mobilize to create change. But where is the outrage over racial dominance in the children’s literature community?
In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.
In the past I have defended the CSK Award against claims that writers of all races should be eligible. With less than 3% of the publishing pie, though we constitute 13% of the US population, I felt that black authors and illustrators deserved something to call their own. Today I am less convinced of the relevance of the CSK Awards and wonder if I ought to revise the portion of my author presentation that claims the award reflects the values of Dr. and Mrs. King. The award-granting process is often controversial and generally shrouded in secrecy, though a 2010 article in School Library Journal lifted the veil on the Caldecott Medal. The CSK Book Awards Committee considers all genres, I believe, but the Caldecott focuses on one genre illustrated books only and still jury members can expect to review more than 700 titles each year. I am not entirely convinced of the link between quantity and quality in books, but there is something to be said for competition and I think creativity truly flourishes when more (and more kinds of) people are invited to the drawing table. As television’s numerous talent competitions demonstrate, the US has a deep pool of gifted individuals who are simply waiting for an opportunity to shine.
Last year I received a grant from the Canada Council for the Arts to write a family memoir about my African American ancestors; I am anxious to explore the social pressures that first led them to flee slavery in the US only to further escape into whiteness in order to avoid racism in Canada. In my country of origin, an average of two black authors manage to publish a book for children each year, making a race-based award like the CSK impossible. Things are better here in the US, which is why I chose to relocate, but after more than a decade trying to publish my twenty manuscripts for young readers, I’m ready to throw in the towel and move on. I am close to completing two young adult novels, both speculative fiction, and once they’re done I plan to leave the world of children’s literature behind. I am disappointed by the complacency of so many individuals and institutions that claim to have children’s best interest at heart, yet I am encouraged by the fact that a small group of activists is currently in the process of reviving/reinventing the Council on Interracial Books for Children. I will do what I can to assist with the launch of this endeavor, and I hope its emphasis on social justice will truly honor the transformative vision of Dr. and Mrs. King.
Well said, Zetta. It can be difficult to decide when and how to criticize such things in public and I commend you for speaking up. I myself have wondered if this award has outlived its usefulness, not because African American writers and illustrators no long need special recognition (quite the opposite seems true) but because the award seems to contradict its purpose. There is too much talent that is not being noticed.
I do believe that whatever you continue to write will come from a place of honestly, integrity and talent! Best wishes!
Thanks, Edi! Perhaps we’re expecting too much of a single award—if the CSK committee wants to focus on biography & history, then perhaps we need a new multicultural award to recognize excellence in other areas. I feel like white children get a wide assortment of books to read but black children get liver & brussel sprouts—books that are good for them but not fun or exciting…my college students wouldn’t think poorly of black literature if they were introduced to contemporary, compelling books during their middle school and high school years.
YES. I am a (white) youth services librarian in a small, very non-diverse town in Wisconsin. I grew up in a much more racially diverse city (Austin). There are very few kids at my library from minority groups – our neighboring towns have much larger Hispanic populations for example. I simply cannot circulate 99% of the CSK or Pura Belpre awards. My minority kids don’t want to read about the same people over and over again, or civil rights, or the same cultural events and festivals, important though they are. They want the same thing any kid reader of any color wants. They want funny books, like Sally Warner’s EllRay Jakes. They want contemporary, beautiful picture books that tell a story like Beach Tail by Karen Williams. They want exciting adventures with interesting twists like Sarwat Chadda’s the Savage Fortress. I want to give the kids books they enjoy, that are fun to read, with characters that look like them, characters with real, contemporary lives they can relate to and I would like an award from trusted people who can assure me that these books are accurate, realistic, and beautifully written but will also actually be read.
Very well said, Zetta! Your visit to our school was so uplifting and exciting for our students, who are predominantly African-American. The state of the publishing industry for authors of color is so disheartening b/c our students – and all students! – really need more author-role models like you that write about characters and situations they can relate to.
Thanks, Marti. Visiting Westwood was such a treat—black students rarely get to learn in a state of the art facility, in small classes with committed teachers. And it does bother me that the CSK Award Committee doesn’t seem concerned with the FUTURE—their focus seems to be on the past and we really have to think about who will be left to tell our stories once the “big fish” are gone. I tell students they don’t need anyone’s permission to become a writer, but there are still too many obstacles to becoming a published author and I think it’s our responsibility to make things easier for the next generation. That’s what I feel the Kings believed as well.
We need to redouble our efforts so that the landscape changes, new roads open, and you don’t need to fulfill your plans “to leave the world of children’s literature behind.” It would be such a loss. I am going to call on the imagination, surprise turns, and strength in your books to imagine and work for a better outcome.
The landscape will *have* to change—the current corporate model of publishing simply isn’t sustainable. But they won’t change willingly, so applying pressure is key and I do wish the CSK committe and/or the ALA would at least issue a statement acknowledging that a problem exists. It seems wrong that librarians are wined and dined or wooed and dazzled by the Big 6 at these conventions when it’s clear they aren’t truly serving young library patrons.
[…] A very personal response from Zetta Elliott after this last awards round. She’s out. […]
Wow, Zetta – I have to say, “I hear you.”
I’m sorry to see you leave the field, but I understand, I truly do.
I look forward to seeing your star rise in the field of adult fiction, and look forward to more of your speculative fiction.
Thanks, Tanita! We definitely need more writers like you who explore aspects of “the black experience” that are too often ignored.
Thanks for your thoughtfulness and honesty, Zetta. I think the points you’re bringing up are important for librarians, readers, and publishers to think about. I was really surprised by the fact that the Steptoe Award was not given this year OR last year (along with the fact that the Belpré committee did not choose an illustrator honor this year). We’ll never know why the committee made their decision, but it is sad to think that an opportunity to shine a spotlight on a breakout African American author or illustrator went untaken, especially when they’re already so underrepresented. Much as I love the CSK Award and believe it’s still necessary, it can be disheartening to see it go to the same few people (and, often, for the same few subjects), year after year.
I do believe that this is something librarians, and especially CSK committee members, truly care about – I don’t think committee work is as glamorous as being wooed and dazzled by the Big 6, and I do think the books chosen this year were really beautiful. But I think there’s more that all of us can do to actively widen the pool of books and creators.
Thanks for responding, Hannah. Indie presses like Lee & Low do so much to discover and promote new talent—I can’t understand how the Steptoe award stayed on the shelf. Book award committee members seem so focused on rather narrow criteria that they fail to recognize the larger needs of the library patrons they serve. Or perhaps they feel the award committee simply isn’t responsible for the bigger picture—I don’t know, but it’s certainly frustrating!
I tend t o agree with Hannah and the whole concept of children readership. It is a potty that you have decided to quit writing for children, Zetta. Many times we do get frustrated, but if you quit and I quit from being a librarian,what.
Hi, Lornette! Thanks for sharing your POV. Fortunately, I’m not the only black author writing for children–and if I publish 2 more novels, that’ll make 5 books for young readers. Not a bad contribution to the field. And eventually, once I finish my family memoirs, I’ll try to find a way to publish picture books outside of the traditional industry—I’d love to start a press in Nevis!!
Jennifer, thank you so much for sharing your perspective as a Wisconsin librarian. I often wish the children’s publishing industry would listen to the people who have direct contact with young readers. Teachers often tell me they need books for specific readers—and I have stories that would fit the bill, but the gatekeepers won’t let those stories through. We do need another award so that they CSK award committee can pursue its own agenda and other great black-authored books can receive the recognition they deserve.
Thank you, Zetta. I have been an advocate for the CSK awards having many honor books and I certainly think the Steptoe Award should find a recipient every year. Please continue to keep heat on all the award committees.