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Hey Pop,It’s been a minute since I’ve written you a proper letter, mostly because I don’t know your address or even if they have email wherever you are.When you were around, we’d write each other lots of letters, even if we knew we’d be meeting up for breakfast the next...
Art by Christopher MyersWe walk in, by ones or twos, flash IDs and smiles. If you are lucky, the dance floor is already crowded and you can simply slip between the sounds, into the movement. There are colored lights spinning over skin, over carefully chosen outfits, over movements practiced in...
I’ve just about given up on the world.A friend of mine, a book-wise, hanger-thin Jamaican, whose spider fingers dance across endless stories, whose easy smile softens the formality of his dress, sent me an essay he wrote, about how much safer he felt as a child in the gangster-riddled streets...
I had wanted to write something funny.I thought I had something to add to recent discussions about the diversity and lack thereof in children’s literature — a unique perspective, perhaps.I was raised in the midst of these conversations about cultural diversity in children’s media. My father, Walter Dean Myers, has...