Susan Guevara is the noted illustrator of several children's books, including My Daughter, My Son, The Eagle, The Dove, written by Ana Castillo, and the three "Chato" Books, written by Gary Soto: Chato's Kitchen, Chato Goes Crusin' and Chato and the Party Animals. Her latest book is N̼mero Uno, written by Alex and Arthur Dorros (Abrams, 2007). She lives and works in Santa Fe, NM.
News source for this article: http://www.alternativeradio.org/
Watch the video of her interview about Children's Book Day.


Time was short. There were only a few weeks left before I was to head to Ohio and Kentucky to celebrate El Dia de los Niños, El Dia de los Libros.  The week-long visit was going to be action-packed with school and library visits and a lot of PR appearances.  Much of my work-time was filled with preparations.

And then a call came in from Peg Sullivan, Director of Merchandising at Highsmith, Inc., a library resource company, requesting a mural image to present at the upcoming ALA as part of a limited edition collection by established illustrators. The idea was compelling: a 4 x 7 foot mural with library appropriate subject matter. Besides, Peg and her head of design, Kim Zuelsdorf, are brilliant, witty people that can talk me into just about anything. We had worked together during the five-day renovation of the Children's Resource Center in New Orleans at the 2006 ALA where Kim and I painted madly on a mural while Peg plied us with food and encouragement, (hurry up!)

The longer I work at this "business" of illustration, the more I realize the process is much greater than any single effort I make. And often, when the time is short and the deadline soon, I am forced to leap off the creative cliff and trust completely that ineffable source where art is born. The results surprise me; it feels like I had little to do with the end product, and the process is breathtakingly scary.  In the case of the Highsmith mural it was no different.

I knew I wanted the piece to be about literacy and freedom.  As I began sketching something that seemed to go against everything I might intentionally design for a mural, I began to think about this idea of freedom.  So, what exactly is it?  Our government insists that is what we are bringing to Iraq.  As 1000s die and 1000s more are displaced, I wonder what freedom I bring to that equation. 

The path worked itself out as the paint went down on the canvas:  The ability to read and write is our tool to think critically. We can gather information, evaluate that information, compare and contrast, draw conclusions, and finally, make choices.  Our choices are informed, thoughtful, reasoned and from a well of self-gained knowledge. We have a freedom from those external sources that convince us to choose from fear.  With literacy as our guide, we can be free from social mores, religious tenets, and political dogma.  This is a precious and particular freedom and one that gives us a remarkable power. This freedom gives us the power to create peace.  Consider how easy it is to create conflict.  Consider how much of our action as a nation comes from fear.  Consider how ill-informed we are as a people and how much one must search in order to find real information.

We live in a difficult time.  As contributors to children's literature, we have something to offer.  The tools to change this course of fear and destruction we find ourselves on are in our hands. Championing literacy-- these days-- is taking a path towards peace.

The mural completed, I went to Cincinnati.  As I penned these "literacy as freedom" thoughts for a television interview, I thought how good it would be to speak to Pat Mora, the originator of El Dia de los Niños, El Dia de los Libros, about these ideas. As far as I knew, she went back and forth between Cincinnati and Santa Fe.  My host, Sara Lowery, librarian at one of the tri-county libraries, was a good friend of Pat's and gave her a call.  Pat was back in Santa Fe, where she lives now permanently.  How convenient. I live there too. We determined to get together soon. 

"Soon" came in the way of an unreasonable request I made of Pat at the end of summer.  In the mural painting I had used a favorite poem by a Canadian poet.  Highsmith agreed to contact her for reprint rights but found her impossible to reach.  At the last moment, they told me I would have to let go of the poem. With two days to spare I emailed Pat and tried to explain the mural, how the poem had influenced it, my intent (literacy as freedom), and finally, asked her for a poem of her own to replace the one we could not reprint.

She wrote back a most diplomatic and reasonable response. "I have often spoken to educators about the liberating aspect of literacy so, of course, I agree with you.... Are you asking me for five words to capture all this by tomorrow or what exactly?"

"I know. It's crazy. If I can get you a few more days, will you do it?" (I actually wrote much more than this and tripped all over myself with words. Pat waded through my embarrassed explanations and LONG email and wrote back that she was leaving for a week of appearances the next morning but she would try – and signed off with "It's a joy to have us working together for children, literacy and peace."

Pat, with her amazing willingness and acute understanding of this wacky creative process, looked at the mural and crafted a brilliant poem:

              Gold Wings

Books open like wings,

carry me into gold

quiet, unfold into skies, deserts,

and deep, long-ago gleaming seas.

Words whisper and sing,

"We can grow paz, paz,

a gentle peace."

© 2007 by Pat Mora

                      
This says it. This says it all.

Susan still intends to meet Pat Mora for lunch sometime in Fall, when their complex schedules calm.

Posted September 2007