You don't know where you're going . . .

Okay, so I'm new at blogging. I've made excuses about being too busy. I've resisted it, head shaking back and forth, like a child being offered a spoonful of castor oil. But as I've read the many wonderful blogs out there (P, Don, Kyra & Librarygrl, that means you ;), I've been inspired to add my voice.

Blogging is a way to connect with a community that's working to empower and entertain children, just like I am. It's a way to go on a journey of discovery and revelation. It's a way to share some of the thoughts and ideas that swirl in my mind. So I've stood by the side long enough. I'm ready to take the leap into the world of blogs. I'll start at the beginning. Here's why I write:

I write for children because I want them to see their faces and hear their voices in stories. I write for children to help them discover parts of the world and themselves. I write for children to give back.

African-American children's literature has a rich history and tradition. From Langston Hughes to Christopher Paul Curtis, from Virginia Hamilton to Sharon G. Flake, authors and illustrators have celebrated children and explored their dreams, experiences and history.

But as a kid, I saw just one children's book written by a black author -- Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry. That's why I felt so drawn to multicultural children's books as an adult. One day, I saw a picture book called Something Beautiful by Sharon Dennis Wyeth and my life changed. Entranced, I read page after page until I reached the end. Then, I smiled, stroked the cover and read it again. If you haven't read it, you're in for something delightful.

The story takes you on a walk with a girl searching for "something beautiful" in her city neighborhood. She visits a laundromat, fruit stand and other places and learns what others consider beautiful. Then, she decides to create beauty herself by cleaning up her community. In the end, she learns who her mother considers the most beautiful person of all.

That book, just 32 pages, sent me through so many emotions -- wonder, sadness, fear, delight and finally contentment. The story was told with such economy and grace. It reminded me of the incredible power of children's literature. For an instant, I became that dreamy girl I used to be, who would warm her feet by the radiator on cold Pittsburgh days and lose and find herself over and over in the pages of books.

I write for children because so many others paved the way . . .

So in homage to those trailblazers, I'd like to thank some of the many authors who have inspired me:

Sharon Dennis Wyeth, Eleanora E. Tate, Wade & Cheryl Hudson, Madeleine L'Engle, thank you.
Virginia Hamilton, Mildred D. Taylor, Eve Bunting, Patricia & Fredrick McKissack, thank you.
Bernette and George Ford, Sharon Bell Mathis, Katherine Paterson, Walter Dean Myers, thank you.
Jacqueline Woodson, Carole Boston Weatherford, Amy Hest, Patricia Lee Gauch, thank you.
Angela Johnson, Natasha Anastasia Tarpley, Brenda Woods, thank you.

I would not be here without you.