Patricia Hruby Powell

“Dare to Disappoint: Growing Up in Turkey” (Farrar Straus Giroux 2015) by Özge Samanci is an inspiring memoir and a more-than-charming graphic novel. It follows and eventually answers the universal questions: What do I want? Who am I? What’s more, it reveals another culture—a middle eastern culture, a Muslim land—at a time when seeing and understanding others is more important than ever.

 

Özge, was born in the mid-70s in the Aegean coastal town of Izmir. When television arrives in the mid 80s there is one channel. Özge sees an underwater Jacques Cousteau special. She’s smitten. She decides she will become a scuba diver. Her father expects “better” from her. She tries. But there are obstacles. In Turkey the school system makes the attainment of education challenging, especially if you’re not wealthy. There are deep conflicts between secularism and fundamentalism—Darwin or Allah? You watch Özge grow up alongside her smarter, more talented big sister who eventually succeeds in becoming a computer scientist—a prestigious field (although she’s not passionate about it). Özge keeps searching, trying, growing, in spite of these hardships.

 

I love to read stories from outside my culture. You can’t help but compare it to your own. And if you have friends from that other culture, you get to understand and know them better. In this case, you understand why they might be so knowledgeable. In order to get anywhere in the Turkish education system you have to learn how to learn. You must pass tests to get to the next level. Test results also decide to which school you will advance and the quality of teaching you will experience. And you learn about Turkish government and politics. For instance, elementary students in Turkey in the 80s were taught that they should want to die for their former “President” Ataturk, who was actually a dictator (and who died back in 1938).

 

Özge’s father wants her to be an engineer. She tries, but all she is only advanced into the easier field of mathematics. Easier? you ask. (. . . well, I asked). Can Özge please her father? He’s not easily pleased. She hears his voice in her head. It’s so loud, she can’t hear her own voice. And there’s the noise of all those other voices telling her to be: an engineer, lawyer, doctor. Her friends ask her: What are you good at? What do you love? Nothing nothing nothing. Özge falls into a deep depression. What will she do? She tries acting. And fails.

 

Then her friends see her school notes where she’s doodled around the coffee drips, fingerprints, and wrinkles. Thank heavens. You should see them too. Samanci’s artwork is sweet, funny, and smart. So is her text.

 

Because this book is so inspiring, you know you have to give it as a gift!

 

Patricia Hruby Powell is the author of Josephine: The Dazzling Life of Josephine Baker. Her young adult documentary novel Loving vs. Virginia releases in January 2017. talesforallages.com

Loving vs. Virginia is an informational book or a “documentary novel.” The story is told in verse in the voices of Mildred Jeter (African American and Indian) and Richard Loving (white). The couple grew up together, fell in love, married in Washington DC, came home to Virginia in 1958 and were arrested in bed. It’s hard to believe that less than 60 years ago interracial marriage was illegal in half of the United States.

 

Research included my watching Nancy Biurski’s documentary, The Loving Story, repeatedly. I viewed news clips, studied Hope Ryden’s 1960s film footage of the Lovings, read newspaper and magazine articles contemporary to the times. I read extensively about the convoluted court case that led to the U.S. Supreme Court. I searched for photos and quotes. But, perhaps the most fun, was interviewing the “players” of my story.

 

Sadly, both Richard and Mildred Loving are deceased—Mildred in 2008, and Richard only nine years after the U.S. Supreme decision of 1967 which ruled in their favor. But I did speak extensively to Mildred’s brothers Lewis Jeter and to Otha Jeter who still lives in the neighborhood in Caroline County where they all grew up together. Their neighborhood—or section—was remarkably integrated. Blacks, whites, and Indians worked other, partied together, and in some cases, fell in love. This took place in a state, so segregated that State Statistician Walter

Plecker instated the “Racial Integrity Act,” as a health bulletin (!) declaring that interracial marriage was illegal.

 

One of my favorite interviews was with Richard’s friend, Ray Green. He and five buddies stood around a pick up truck outside a rural convenience store with my husband and me and chatted about their friends, the Lovings. They told stories, laughed, and gave details that would be the foundation of scenes in my book.

Another great part of the research? Remembering how it felt to fall in love. I listened to music that I listened to in my 20s when I was falling in love regularly. My husband and I spoke about falling in love—reminding each other of our stories.

 

My husband, being a white southern man, had special insight into Richard. Studying Richard in film clips and reading his words from previous interviews was essential in recreating his character. As many note, he looked like the quintessential red-neck—one who would be bigoted. Clearly he was not, and I got to establish that, showing his love and stubbornness.

 

From the clips, I know Mildred was soft spoken, a gentle mother to their three children,

and altogether charming. The couple was clearly in love. They did not want to be the center of this important civil rights issue. They just wanted to live their quiet lives together—at home in Caroline County.

 

Please ask me any questions. I’d be happy to answer them; or make a new blog post about what might be interesting to be known. And please 1)leave a comment and 2)sign up for the posts if you want a free advance copy of Loving vs. Virginia. The second drawing will be just before Thanksgiving. The third, before Christmas.

Buffalo Bill, born in Iowa as William Frederick Cody in the mid-1800s was a showman who would create the perceptions that persist today as the American West. The Codys and their seven children moved west to lawless Kansas. Several children died. Will’s father, Isaac, was hunted by pro-slavery men who vowed to kill him because they mistakenly thought he was an abolitionist. Even before Isaac died, when Will was nine, he scouted the frontier to earn money to support his family.

 

Author Candace Fleming begins each chapter with an act from what would become Bill Cody’s Wild West show in “Presenting Buffalo Bill: The Man Who Invented the Wild West” (Neal Porter/Roaring Brook 2016). Employing hundreds of Indians, cowboys, with horses, deer, and buffalo, Will Cody (Buffalo Bill) toured the U.S. and Europe, performing immense outdoor programs for millions, including Queen Victoria. His troupe would pitch camp over multiple acres and the audience could visit the cabins and tipis to see how people of the American west lived. Indian women who accompanied their men could sell their beadwork and moccasins.

 

Bill claimed that each “act” came from his own life—a Pony Express Rider, Scalping Indians, Riding with Wild Bill Hickok. Were his stories truthful? Some were. Fleming gives us sidebars headed “Panning for the Truth,” explaining how she divided truth from fiction. For instance, when Cody claimed to ride with Bill Hickok out west, Hickok was living in Vermont. However, the account of Cody’s sister, Julia, is corroborated by historic documents, so hers is deemed accurate overall.

 

With all his braggadocio, it’s not always easy to like Buffalo Bill Cody. Scalping Indians? He probably did scalp one man—Yellow Hair. But Cody was also an admirer of Indians. When the U.S. Army asked him to bring in his friend Sitting Bull, who the U.S. Army saw as a threat, he agreed. Against logic, you want him to set Sitting Bull free. But it was too late. Another army official who had a personal grudge against the chief got there first and killed Sitting Bull in a blood bath. Buffalo Bill would have been the better liaison in this matter.

 

Being in favor of the Indian overall, I feel that Fleming gives Native Americans a fair shake. She describes how the U.S. government went back on its word repeatedly—tragically—all to destroy the Indian population and culture. And what about Bill? An argument contemporary to the time said he should have left the Indians on the reservation. Was he exploiting Native Americans? Fleming shows that Indians of many nations loved Buffalo Bill. He paid them 100 times more than they would have received on the reservation where they were starving. Those who were lucky enough to travel with the show lived their culture in small ways on the road and were not pressed to assimilate into white European culture.

 

This is too simple a description. I urge you to read the book.

 

 

Patricia Hruby Powell is the author of Josephine: The Dazzling Life of Josephine Baker. Her young adult documentary novel Loving vs. Virginia releases in January 2017. talesforallages.com

Last year Jacqueline Woodson won the National Book Award for Young People’s Literature, for her memoir, Brown Girl Dreaming. Her newest book, Another Brooklyn (Amistad/Harper 2016) is published and marketed as an adult book. This novel about four black girls growing up in the 70s—four fast friends—shows joy, hardship, and great love among the characters.

 

Clearly it is an adult book, but being about young people, why is that? Much “young adult” literature is chock full of violence, sex, and other topics that are taboo to middle grade readers (for the most part). But certain ideas fall in the realm of adult ideas, as in this book, which shows difficult assumptions about young black women and the pressure they feel. Still, I would put this book in the hands of some young adult readers. There is so much to aspire to in the relationships among the girls as they go from nine to sixteen.

 

When many of us were growing up, we weren’t aware of “young adult” or “teen” literature. We just read books—like Hermann Hesse, Ayn Rand, JD Salinger. We understood them to the extent we understood. Sometimes when we spoke of these books, adults would marvel at our deep understanding. In some cases, the adults were more impressed than we deserved, using their own understanding to stretch our words and meanings.

 

Back to Another Brooklyn. Like all of Woodson’s writing, it is poetic. Her storytelling is masterful. I marvel at the ten-year-old girls’ devotion to each other. In their teens, they support each other, rely on each other. I didn’t find relationships like that until I was twenty. When I think further, I realize, that first deep girlfriend relationship was with Corinne, a young black dancer in London. We would walk down the street, arms locked. No one could penetrate our mutual protection.

 

Eventually I’d carry that intimacy to relationships with white girls. But now I ask myself, is this close bond something born especially in a black community? Am I stereotyping? Or just acknowledging that some stereotypes are born from a kernel of truth.

 

August, the book’s narrator, says her mother did not experience closeness with other women— quite the opposite. And it’s because of her mother’s depression that her father takes the children away from their Tennessee mother to live with him in Brooklyn. Eventually August’s estranged mother takes her own life. So . . . Is Woodson telling us that a woman’s relationship with other women essential? I surely agree.

 

And the title? “Another” Brooklyn. This implies an original Brooklyn. Is she saying there’s a white neighborhood experience and a black neighborhood experience? Perhaps. I loved this view into a world that I can only overlap, but have never lived. That is so often the beauty of books and reading—being given a view of life different than your own.

 

Patricia Hruby Powell is the author of Josephine: The Dazzling Life of Josephine Baker. Win a copy of her not-yet-released Loving vs. Virginia here:

Why I wrote Loving vs. Virginia – Book Give Away