You know how they say it’s hard to make friends as an adult? I can’t relate. Maybe that’s because, when it comes to making friends, I really just do what kids do.
Me: Hi! I’m Candace. Wanna be friends?
Them: Sure!
Us: Best Friends 4 ever!
That’s pretty easy for me in real life, but here, on the pages of a beloved magazine, the conversation is fairly one-sided. I mean, you might be commenting from your perch on the living room couch, nodding your head as you read at the bus stop, or saying, “Giiiirrrl, me too!” while you wait in the dentist’s office.
But, well, I can’t hear you.
I can only hope that my words will connect with you somehow. Or that you’ll at least stick around long enough to see what it is that we have in common.
And without ever having met most of you, I guarantee there’s something.
OK, be honest: Is it boring to start out with, “My whole life, I loved to read …”? Maybe it’s just me, or maybe it’s because anytime someone asks me about my love of stories and books or why I started a bookshop, that’s what I say. It’s true, but as a storyteller, it’s important for me to engage my readers. So I ask, dear reader: What engages you?
That’s a question I hope to answer as I launch this new literary column for COMO Magazine.
Why, you ask?
Because I want this to be a dialogue between book besties. A place for us to gather and talk about books and stories and the people we meet because of them.
Since you just found out this friendship was even in the works, I’ll go first. Let’s start with the fact that I can hardly believe I’m here, writing a column for this beautiful local publication. Growing up in St. Louis, there were a lot of careers that interested me: corporate lawyer, copy editor for Essence magazine, an advertising agent creating the commercials that made people cry, or anything-but-a teacher (which I became and loved).
These fantasies came and went, but the undercurrent of writing was always present. I really wanted to be a writer, which, in part, came from my undying love of reading.
Here I’ll insert some phrases you’ve undoubtedly heard and possibly said before:
“The library was my second home.”
“I loved to get lost in books.”
“It was so cool to see myself and my family in my favorite books!”
*Record scratch*
Not so fast on that last one. I don’t remember when I first noticed, but I distinctly did NOT see myself represented in my favorite stories.
Not in Charlotte’s Web.
Not in anything by Beverly Cleary.
The Boxcar Children — mmmm, not so much.
OK, OK, I can hear a few folks saying, “But those are children’s books.” Touché. But all through middle school, the story — no pun intended — and lack of representation remained the same.
Sweet Valley High
The Barbie series
The Baby-Sitters Club
Remember, these are books that I loved. Stories that I devoured and wanted to read over and over.
But they didn’t include girls with brown skin and kinky hair who jumped double Dutch with their friends after school.
Sure, at home we sometimes had bacon for breakfast while Mom had her coffee, just like Fern and the Arables. But where were the grits and smoked Polish (pronounced “pola”) sausage? How come everyone in the Chronicles of Narnia series had straight-textured hair and peach skin? And please correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle offering curiously creative cures to any families in my neighborhood.
As much as I enjoyed these stories, at some point, I began to feel excluded from them. Like someone standing outside watching the action happening on the inside. What did it mean that no one in the stories had physical features like mine?
As much as I enjoyed these stories, at some point, I began to feel excluded from them. Like someone standing outside watching the action happening on the inside. What did it mean that no one in the stories had physical features like mine?
I felt absent. Invisible.
By the time I hit high school, I was a full-on word nerd, and starting my sophomore year, I was immersed in literature through my honors English courses. My Black teachers Mrs. Raglin and Mrs. Baker introduced me to Maya Angelou and Toni Morrison alongside Frost and Poe. At Mizzou, Prof. Bryan Carter opened the floodgates with works from the likes of Zora Neale Hurston and Claude McKay.
Becoming a mom also pushed me to find more stories where my daughters could see their own little faces looking back from the pages. As a teacher, I wanted to make sure that all kids saw people who looked like them — and those who didn’t — doing fun, adventuresome, and yes, typical things.
I truly don’t want to spend 800-1,000 words talking about myself. So you’ll slowly get to know me through this new literary column. And I hope you’ll discover some cool writers, poets, people, and stories, expanding your own views of literature and the world along the way.
The goal here is to think about literature and literacy from a variety of viewpoints and perspectives. To enjoy some exciting, challenging, funny, interesting stories together. To build connection and community through conversations around stories and books and reading.
You’ll get to sit in on my conversations with local authors, see what books I’m reading, and discover why I think you might (or might not) like them, too. And I really do want to hear from you! I haven’t figured that part out yet, but stay tuned. We’ll come up with something.
Hey — you made it! Thank you for being here and choosing to read this first article. I hope you’ll come back and come back and come back again.
I mean, you really could be doing ANYTHING else. Making dinner, doing homework, changing the oil in your car. Instead you’re here, taking time to do a little something that I hope has been a sunny spot in your day.
Shout-out to Adalynn, the lovely young lady who so kindly offered to let me use her hotspot when the cafe’s internet was down. I was able to finish this column because of your help, sweet lady!
Do you see what I mean about community? It’s real. Despite all the things trying to tear us apart, we can do this together. We need each other to make this life work.
In the words of our dearest Reading Rainbow host: I’ll see ya next time!
