When I was a kid, my brother, sister, and I came to the dinner table prepared to do three things: Bless the food, eat, and share a story. We grew up in a family where the oral tradition was woven into the strands of our everyday lives. Mom was an English teacher. Dad, a grass-roots civil rights organizer who worked in public policy, was a gifted, charismatic storyteller. He didn't hold back when it came to sharing narratives about the dignity of Black people and the struggles we faced and transcended.
Both of my parents were voracious readers who understood the importance of taking books off their shelves and reading them aloud. My folks knew that the difference between just owning a book and experiencing its power stems from the oral tradition that is core to African American life and culture. One of the very first books Mom and Dad read aloud to me was The Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats, the first mainstream book to feature a child of color as the central character.
Though Keats was white, his depiction of young Peter, the effervescent boy who goes out in the snow, was inspired by the neighbors and friends in his Brooklyn neighborhood. Keats was a firm believer in celebrating people of color in stories for children. His book was groundbreaking, and a bold step toward progress.