Rapunzel: An Islamic Tale by Fawzia Gilani and illustrated by Sarah Nesti Willard

Rapunzel: An Islamic Tale by Fawzia Gilani
Illustrated by Sarah Nesti Willard
Kube Publishing

When a woodcutter and his wife’s baby daughter is taken away by a hard-hearted old women in payment for a few rapunzel leaves, they are heartbroken. Although the old woman is not cruel to the little girl, she does not want her parents to ever find her and names her Rapunzel after the rapunzel greens for which she was taken. In time, Rapunzel grows into a young lady with an inquisitive mind and a kind and generous heart but will she ever be re-united with her parents?

This book is another charming Islamic re-telling by Fawzia Gilani of a classic children’s story. It is a story of patience and trust in Allah that is rewarded in the end.

Cover image and summary via Edelweiss

Posted in Books, Reviews

Review: Muslim Representation in Picture Books (School Library Journal)

This piece was originally published for School Library Journal in October 2020.

Muslim Representation in Picture Books

Picture books enable readers to see themselves reflected in the larger world. With increasing Muslim representation in published books, all readers can explore the diversity of Muslim communities, identities, and cultural backgrounds as they intersect to create unique expressions of Islamic cultures and practices. Picture books also offer a visually intimate look into Muslim experiences and places where individual and private family traditions, conversations, and interactions flourish.

These books were published in 2019–20 (with one from 2018) by mainstream publishing houses. In searching for books published during this time frame, we found few Muslim male authors and protagonists. In some books, characters are not explicitly Muslim, but nomenclature and context (often a headscarf on a female character) offer clues. In some representations of Muslims in stories, a khimar or hijab (to name a few of the terms used for headscarf) on a female character is still the prevailing identity marker but serves to identify only Muslim girls and women. Also, books may depict Muslim girls wearing hijab at young ages, when it is commonly not worn, or portray girls and women wearing hijab in situations where it is usually not worn. Because there are fewer identity markers for Muslim boys, they often remain invisible.

#OwnVoices representation provides nuanced authenticity as well as subtle allusions to racial diversity in Muslim communities and families, with characters of varied skin tones and clothing styles. As we stated in our 2019 SLJ piece about Muslim representation in YA literature, we hope that publishers will release more books about Muslims and amplify the voices of Muslim populations that are less frequently heard from or seen.

Dee, Noor H. I Say Collection with Nabil and Noura. illus. by Iput. Islamic Foundation. May 2020. ISBN 9780860377825.
PreS-K –This collection of board books follows siblings Nabil and Noura as they explain how common Islamic phrases such as as-salamu’alaykum and bismillah are used in everyday life. Each title includes the phrase written in Arabic with diacritical marks to indicate vowels and stops, transliteration, and translation into English. Simple but profound, these cheery offerings will foster understanding of words used by Muslims and Arabic speakers across the globe. Nabil and Noura are light-skinned, and Noura wears a headscarf; their ethnicity is unclear. Dee and Iput are both Indonesian.

Javaherbin, Mina. My Grandma and Me. illus. by Lindsey Yankey. Candlewick. 2019. ISBN 9781406384949.
PreS-Gr 3 –In this tender, autobiographical story, Iranian American author Javaherbin recalls cherished moments with her grandmother in Iran. Through daily chores, acts of faith like attending mosque and doing charity work, and a beautiful interfaith friendship between the narrator and her grandmother and their Christian friends, her grandma exudes wisdom, generosity, and love. Soft, muted illustrations are made richer with cultural detail, conveying a nostalgia-tinged reminiscence of precious time spent with a loved one.

Khalil, Aya. The Arabic Quilt: An Immigrant Story. illus. by Anait Semirdzhyan. Tilbury. Feb. 2020. ISBN 9780884487548.
K-Gr 3 –Kanzi, an Egyptian immigrant to the United States, worries about not fitting in at her new school, and her fears are heightened when a classmate mocks her and her mother for speaking Arabic. Wrapped in her Teita’s (grandma’s) quilt, Kanzi writes a poem that inspires a classroom quilt project, with her teacher facilitating a discussion of English words that come from Arabic, language appreciation, and acceptance. Muted illustrations and gentle, reassuring text tell a story of a young girl finding pride and love in the languages she speaks. A glossary of Egyptian Arabic terms is included.

Khan, Hena. Like the Moon Loves the Sky. illus. by Saffa Khan. Chronicle. Mar. 2020. ISBN 9781452180199.
PreS-Gr 1 –In eloquent and expressive poetic verses inspired by the Qur’an, a mother shares wishes for her child using the Arabic phrase inshallah (“if God wills it”). She hopes that her child will find wonder in the natural world, seek and reflect on knowledge, and speak “truth [while] working for its sake”—in short, become an integral part of the world and contribute to its betterment. The family is depicted as brown-skinned, and an older woman and a younger child wear headscarves, though their ethnicity is not directly stated; the author is Pakistani American. With vibrant illustrations, this book celebrates a parent’s unconditional love and faith.

Khan, Hena. Under My Hijab. illus. by Aaliya Jaleel. Lee & Low. 2019. ISBN 9781620147924.
PreS-Gr 3 –In a powerful narrative that demystifies hijab and individualizes its wearers, a brown-skinned young girl examines the private and professional lives of the women in her life. Jaleel’s warm illustrations feature women from a multiracial family and community, of different ages, skin tones, and body shapes, depicted with and without headscarves. This delightful portrayal of the different styles of hijab also demonstrates how personality can be conveyed with each twist of fabric.

Latham, Irene & Karim Shamsi-Basha. The Cat Man of Aleppo. illus. by Yuki Shimizu. Putnam. ISBN 9781984813787.
K-Gr 4 – Ambulance driver Alaa stays in his beloved Aleppo, helping the injured while many flee the ongoing war. Noticing how the cats of the city are also affected, Alaa cares for them; as his story reaches others, he obtains funding from all over the world. Soon he helps the cats, other animals, children, and adults to find a home and moments of joy and hope. Based on the true story of Mohammad Alaa Aljaleel, this is an inspiring tale of compassion. Shimizu’s breathtaking illustrations and notes from Alaa and the book’s creators add nuance.

Lumbard, Rabiah York. The Gift of Ramadan. illus. by Laura K. Horton. Albert Whitman. 2019. ISBN 9780807529065.
PreS-Gr 3 – When Sophia’s family puts up lights for Ramadan, her grandmother calls them “Pretty and sparkly. Just like the heart of a person who fasts.” Though Sophia finds fasting difficult, with the help of her grandma, she learns that there are many different ways to celebrate Ramadan. Seeing her mother reading the Qur’an and her father assisting neighbors, she finds a way to become involved, help others, and earn something very important to her, the sparkly heart of a believer. Sophia’s family is depicted as multiracial (Sophia’s mother has pale skin and her father has dark skin, while Sophia and her brother and grandmother are the same shade of medium brown). Colorful illustrations enhance this lovely story about Ramadan and its special place as a month of celebration.

Mir, Saira. Muslim Girls Rise: Inspirational Champions of Our Time. illus. by Aaliya Jaleel. S. & S./Salaam Reads. 2019. ISBN 9781534418882.
K-Gr 5 –This collection of illustrated profiles highlights 19 contemporary Muslim women in science, education, fashion, entertainment, politics, activism, and other fields. The women represent various national origins, body types, and skin tones (some wear headscarves; others don’t). Mir notes that these individuals are part of a long line of empowered Muslim women who have made their mark on the world. A quote from each subject is paired with Jaleel’s dynamic illustrations of them in action.

Muhammad, Ibtihaj with S.K. Ali. The Proudest Blue: A Story of Hijab and Family. illus. by Hatem Aly. Little, Brown. 2019. ISBN 9780316519007.
K-Gr 4 –Shopping with her mother and younger sister Faizah, African American Muslim Asiya finds the perfect scarf for her first day of wearing a hijab and first day of school. Faizah is equally enamored of her older sister’s choice, a blue scarf the “color of the ocean.” Told from Faizah’s point of view, this tale depicts the highs, lows, and ultimate triumph of Asiya’s first day covering her hair at school. Bright, bold blues evoke strength, pride, and love, with details that respectfully capture the characters’ African American heritage.

Ramadan, Danny. Salma the Syrian Chef. illus. by Anna Bron. Annick. Mar. 2020. ISBN 9781773213750.
PreS-Gr 3 –Salma and her mother, Syrian refugees living in Vancouver, Canada, miss home, so, with the help of friends at the refugee center, Salma attempts to prepare her mother’s favorite dish, foul shami, to finally make her mother laugh again. Striking illustrations and use of Syrian motifs frame Salma’s heartwarming story as she adjusts to her new home and finds moments of joy with the help of a loving community of refugees from around the world.

Saeed, Aisha. Bilal Cooks Daal. illus. by Anoosha Syed. S. & S./Salaam Reads. 2019. ISBN 9781534418103.
PreS-Gr 3 –Creamy, garlicky, slow-cooked daal is Pakistani American Bilal’s favorite meal. But his friends, who have never eaten the spiced lentil dish, are unsure about how it looks and smells, causing Bilal some apprehension, even as more friends join to help him and Abu (his father) prepare the meal. Bilal’s story speaks to the anxiety of children whose food is often othered, while instilling pride and love in their culture. An author’s note includes a recipe and information about daal as a staple food in South Asia, including Pakistan, where Bilal’s grandparents grew up.

Sullivan, Rosana. Mommy Sayang. illus. by author. Disney. 2019. ISBN 9781368015905.
PreS-Gr 1 –Aleeya and her Mommy sayang (dear mommy) spend every waking moment together in their Malaysian village—and even sleep can’t part them, as Aleeya dreams of her beloved parent. When Mommy gets sick, Aleeya feels the separation acutely. Remembering her dreams, she finds a way to help her mother feel better. Featuring delicate linework and centering Malaysian Muslims of different skin tones and body sizes, this tale is both a beautiful example of representation and a sensitive way to explain and process feelings around parent-child separation.

Thompkins-Bigelow, Jamilah. Mommy’s Khimar. illus. by Ebony Glenn. S. & S./Salaam Reads. 2018. ISBN 9781534400597.
PreS-Gr 2 –A young African American Muslim girl admires her mother as she covers her hair with a khimar, or “flowing scarf.” Exploring her mother’s closet, the girl adorns herself with a sunshine yellow khimar over her braids, awakening her imagination to multiple possibilities. Illustrated in radiant colors and brimming with universal appeal, this is a joyful and much-needed representation of a loving, intergenerational, interfaith, African American Muslim family and their multiracial mosque community.

Thompkins-Bigelow, Jamilah. Your Name Is a Song. illus by Luisa Uribe. Innovation. Jul. 2020. ISBN 9781943147724.
K-Gr 5 –At the end of the first day of school, a young Black Muslim girl is upset because her classmates and teacher “could not say her name.” As she and her mother walk home through their bustling, multiethnic neighborhood, her mother teaches her that “names are songs,” each conveying an innate melody. Soft, flowing illustrations complement lyrical text affirming that all names are valid and worthy of respect. The narrative reflects a common experience for many BIPOC families, who must uplift their children’s identities and teach them tools to defuse and defend against microaggressions from both peers and teachers.


Sara G. Ahmed is a general services librarian in Delaware County, PA. Mahasin Abuwi Aleem is the children’s collection management librarian for the Oakland (CA) Public Library System. Ariana Sani Hussain is a teacher librarian at the Blake School in the Minneapolis suburbs. Hadeal Salamah is a librarian at Georgetown Day School in Washington, DC.

      
Posted in Books, Reviews

Review: Seven Special Somethings: A Nowruz Story

This review was originally published in School Library Journal, March 2021.
 When a mishap wrecks the sofreh haft-seen, seven symbolic items whose names start with the 15th letter in the Persian alphabet, Kian must find items to replace them in time for his grandparents’ Nowruz visit. Kian and his family are preparing to celebrate Nowruz, the Persian New Year marking the start of spring. Maman explains the symbolism behind the seven (haft) items starting with the Farsi letter “seen” on the sofreh (table-setting) haft-seen. Items like sumac for sunshine, seer (garlic) for health, and serkeh (vinegar) for patience represent what the family hopes will bring them happiness in the new year. But trying to add Sonny, the family cat, to the haft-seen leads to its ruin. Faidhi’s illustrations add dynamic color and textural and cultural richness to the narrative; the images feel timeless and convey a feeling of holiday nostalgia. Khorram’s end note mentions other items of renewal frequently placed on a haft-seen that are depicted on the end papers. Though Kian’s khanumjan (a respectful term for grandmother) wears a headscarf, not uncommon among older Persian women, there are no specific indicators that the family is Muslim (and in fact, Nowruz has Zoroastrian origins), so Persian readers of varying backgrounds religious or otherwise will be able to see themselves in the narrative.
VERDICT A beautiful celebration of Nowruz with familial warmth that embraces child agency, problem-solving, and creativity. A recommended purchase for every library.
For more information about Nowruz and Iranian history please visit:
Posted in Reviews

Review: Malala Yousafzai (Little People, Big Dreams)

Review: Malala Yousafzai (Little People, Big Dreams)

Vegara, Maria Isabel Sanchez. Malala Yousafzai. Illus by Manal Mirza, 2021. 32p. Quarto /Frances Lincoln Children’s Books, $15.99  (9780711259041). Gr K-3.

This addition to the Little People, Big Dreams biography series, explores the life of Malala Yousafzai, the youngest Nobel laureate and activist for female education. The narrative describes Malala’s childhood growing up in the Swat valley area of Pakistan and her eagerness for education. But when the Taliban regime takes control of the region, girls are suddenly banned from going to school. Malala and her friends take a stand for their right to education. She appeals to BBC to raise awareness and is subsequently targeted and shot by the Taliban in retaliation. After her recovery,

Malala grows louder, stronger, and more determined to advocate for girls’ and children’s rights to education through her foundation. She works with other activists from Pakistan, Syria, and Nigeria. Readers will take away a sense of Malala’s resilience, pathway to activism, bravery, and hope for change.  

Mirza’s illustrations are vibrant with bold tones, regional patterns, and colorful fabrics. Apart from wardrobe differences and skin tones, characters have similar-looking features.

Malala’s shooting is worded simply, honestly, and not glossed over for young readers. Adults may choose to guide discussions on gun violence and the suppression of women, civil rights, and certain activities banned by the Taliban. As Malala meets people from across the globe, these characters are represented in one spread by differences in skin tone and clothing to show a diversity in race and culture. One character has a bindi, one is wearing a kente-like print shirt and kufi, one is wearing athawb/kandura/dishdasha, and a ghutra head covering.

Illustrations seem to be taken from actual media photographs of Malala and her family, but do not always match the text. In one spread text reads that  Malala is shot and badly injured and wakes up in the hospital, but the illustrations choose to show a later time without  any signs of injury. 

One inaccuracy occurs in the spread showing a classroom, where the blackboard has a sentence written in Urdu (one of the languages spoken in Pakistan). The English translation reads “stop [being] scared of the people” but the Urdu word for “scared” is spelled incorrectly. Still, this inclusion, albeit with spelling errors, is an opportunity to teach that language script is multidirectional, with Urdu and other languages written from right to left.

Illustrated snapshots of Malala’s rise to fame, awards, other accolades, and work with other activists across the globe could have been improved with more explanation of real-life photographs. One illustration appears to be based on a photograph of Malala with indigenous Brazilian girls in traditional clothing, celebrating Malala’s 21st birthday, but is embellished, adding more people in the illustration.

Backmatter includes a timeline, photographs, and additional resources for the reader.  

This biography is a solid introductory primer on Malala with the possibility to open further conversations with young readers and expand their world view. At the same time, it is important that if an adult is facilitating discussions with a young reader, they are aware of the dynamics and history of regional conflicts when answering questions. While I have appreciation for the text and illustrations, as a Pakistani, I am concerned about the simplification of culture and traditions of one of the most beautiful regions of the world. Swat has a rich cultural heritage which was marred in 2007 by the rise of the Taliban and their ouster by the Pakistani military. I hope that this book, and others on Malala, spark an interest in not just Malala’s life and activism, but in the rich culture and history of the region as well.

Thank you to Quarto/Frances Lincoln Children’s Books and Netgalley for providing digital access to this book. Publication date for this title was March 16, 2021.

 

 

Maryam’s Magic: The Story of Mathematician Maryam Mirzakhani By Megan Reid

Maryam’s Magic: The Story of Mathematician Maryam Mirzakhani
by Megan Reid
Illustrated by Aaliya Jaleel
HarperCollins/Balzer+Bray

As a little girl, Maryam Mirzakhani was spellbound by stories. She loved reading in Tehran’s crowded bookstores, and at home she’d spend hours crafting her own tales on giant rolls of paper. Maryam loved school, especially her classes in reading and writing. But she did not like math. Numbers were nowhere near as interesting as the bold, adventurous characters she found in books. Until Maryam unexpectedly discovered a new genre of storytelling: In geometry, numbers became shapes, each with its own fascinating personality—making every equation a brilliant story waiting to be told. As an adult, Maryam became a professor, inventing new formulas to solve some of math’s most complicated puzzles. And she made history by becoming the first woman—and the first Iranian—to win the Fields Medal, mathematics’ highest award. Maryam’s Magic is the true story of a girl whose creativity and love of stories helped her—and the world—to see math in a new and inspiring way.

Cover image and summary via HarperCollins

Posted in Books, Reviews

Review: Salma the Syrian Chef

 

Review: Salma the Syrian Chef by Danny Ramadan. Illus. by Anna Bron. 40 pp.  Annick Press. Released 3/10/2020. Tr $21.95. ISBN 978-1773213750. Preschool to Grade 3.

Salma and her mother are Syrian Muslim refugees living at the Welcome Center for new immigrants in Vancouver, Canada. They both miss home and hope that one day soon Salma’s papa will be able to join them. Mama’s long days are filled with English classes and job interviews. Her fatigue and sadness, juxtaposed to Salma’s youthful joy and hope are viscerally heart-wrenching and the reader feels deeply for Salma in her efforts to make her Mama smile, let alone elicit a happy laugh. Salma attempts a joke but Mama only responds with a “sad smile, full of love, but empty of joy.”

Encouraged by Nancy, assumed to be a Welcome Center employee or coordinator, Salma draws back on her good memories. Though Salma realizes that she can’t bring her Papa to be with them sooner, or rebuild their own home in Damascus, there is something she can do to make her Mama happy.

Salma wants to make her mother’s favorite dish, foul shami, but doesn’t have the recipe. Jad, the Jordanian translator helps find a recipe for her, but Salma realizes that she doesn’t know the English names of the vegetables she will need. Creatively, she finds a way to get around the language barrier by drawing pictures of the ingredients she needs. With the encouragement and help of other friends at the Welcome Center—Amir and Malek, a couple from Lebanon; Granny Donya, an older Iranian woman who wears a headscarf, and Ayesha, wearing a pink headscarf and jeans, Salma gets most of the ingredients for the recipe. It’s implied that Ayesha is Somali as she brings Salma home-baked Somalian sweets.

Ramadan captures Salma’s range of emotions and seamlessly weaves in bits of information about the other kids at the Welcome Center through their interactions with Salma—i.e. Ayman misses kushari; Riya misses the masala dosas her mama made in India; and Evan, who recently arrived from Venezuela, misses arepas— highlighting the commonality of the refugee and immigrant experience, and the complexity of feelings of loss, adjustment, and belonging. The interactions between the new immigrants give off feelings of familial warmth, where in moments of frustration Salma is encouraged to see that this home is “beautiful in its own ways.” These interactions are also intentional and powerful; through them Salma’s agency is highlighted while giving fortification and joy to each individual. Bron’s bright, detailed illustrations enrich the text, through character movement and evoking palpable emotions. Bron uses Syrian-inspired geometric patterns to frame illustrations adding cultural depth to each spread. The resulting work is a poignant and universal tale of finding home and belonging, emphasizing the importance of people and community.

Posted in Books, Reviews

Review: My Grandma and Me by Mina Javaherbin

This review was originally published in the November/December issue of Horn Book magazine and can also be found on the Horn Book website.

My Grandma and Me
by Mina Javaherbin; illus. by Lindsey Yankey
Primary    Candlewick    32 pp.    g
8/19    978-0-7636-9494-4    $16.99

The unnamed narrator recalls her childhood growing up in Iran (where the author also grew up) with her beloved grandmother, who lives with the family. The child accompanies her grandma on her daily routines (“When she swept, I swept. When she cooked, I cooked. When she prayed, I prayed like her, too”), through which the child experiences joyful elements of Iranian Islamic culture and acts of faith. They also spend time with friends (Grandma’s best friend’s granddaughter is our narrator’s best friend); and as the older women laugh, drink coffee, and knit blankets for their mosque and church, respectively, the children (and readers) witness a beautiful interfaith friendship. Yankey’s muted illustrations work well to convey cherished memories and love, with thoughtful cultural details incorporated throughout — a hopscotch board with numbers in Persian, a henna stain on the back of a hand. Striking Persian patterns providing an eye-catching, but not disruptive, contrast to the quotidian activities. Appended notes on the copyright page provide heartfelt details about the author’s and illustrator’s grandmothers. A lovely homage to the unconditional love and wisdom of elders.

From the November/December 2019 Horn Book Magazine.

Posted in Author Interviews

Author and Illustrator Interview: S.K. Ali and Hatem Aly

S. K. Ali is the author of YA novels, Love from A to Z, and the 2018 Morris award finalist, Saints and Misfits, which won critical acclaim for its portrayal of an unapologetic Muslim-American teen’s life, and was on many top ten YA novels of 2017 lists, including from Entertainment Weekly, Kirkus Reviews and the American Library Association. Her picture book THE PROUDEST BLUE, co-authored with Ibtihaj Muhammad, debuted on the NYT bestseller list, and she’s the co-editor of an upcoming Middle Grade anthology, ONCE UPON AN EID, releasing on May 5, 2020. She has a degree in Creative Writing and has written about Muslim life for various media. She lives in Toronto with her family, which includes a very vocal cat named Yeti.

Hatem Aly is an Egyptian-born illustrator whose work spans editorial cartooning, animation, book and magazine illustrations worldwide. He currently lives in New Brunswick, Canada, with his wife, son, and many pets. The Inquisitor’s Tale, written by Adam Gidwitz and illustrated by Aly, was a 2017 Newbery Honor and winner of the Sydney Taylor Book Award. You can find out more about Hatem and view many of his beautiful illustrations on his website or following him on Twitter or Instagram.

Interview Questions were compiled by Hadeal Salamah and Ariana Hussain.

Questions for S.K. Ali

1. This is your first picture book collaboration. How did it differ for you from writing for young adults? How was the process different in terms of you choosing prose for the book?

I found the process much like writing poetry, which, yes, I’m fortunate to have had experience with – but that experience was from over twenty years ago when I was doing my degree in Creative Writing! So while initially I was confident and excited (Picture Book! Short text! Yay!), as I worked on the process of telling a story with a limited word count, I realized that each word had to be carefully considered, that the flow had to be maintained in a manner that carried the story while delivering necessary emotional notes and, that while I could allow the art to carry some of the weight of the narrative, I had to be strategic on how to incorporate the illustrations for optimal effects. Fortunately, I was able to draw on my experience of being a primary grade teacher for over two decades, having read countless picture books, to apply the aspects I loved about these texts in my own writing. While it was challenging, I ended up enjoying the process and am eager to try writing another picture book text in the future, insha’Allah!

2. The pride and love around the idea of hijab is beautifully portrayed in The Proudest Blue, was your journey in wearing hijab similar? Different?

Ibtihaj and I had similar experiences in observing hijab in North America and this is what ultimately led us to a strong text. We both grew up wearing hijab from a young age in environments that weren’t always receptive to our choices.

There’s a duality that exists when you have an identity that’s not “accepted” by mainstream society; you juggle the comfort and pride you get from following your family’s teachings and traditions, from the warmth and happiness you feel from fitting in with your community (in this case, Muslim), from the safety you find in your faith to all the ignorance, negativity, and even outright hate you find outside these circles of security. I remember feeling so excited about favorite scarf styles and colors with friends at the mosque and then having to dampen that passion at school because I wasn’t “supposed” to be happy in my scarf. There’s a huge cognitive shift that happens internally and, when I was growing up, we didn’t have public discussions about what was happening to us. We had internal Muslim community discussions, yes, but we didn’t have the kind of public conversations about code-switching and slipping in and out of personas that we have now in wider contexts. We also didn’t have the mainstream images of confident visible Muslim women that we’re currently blessed with, Alhamdulillah.

THE PROUDEST BLUE is an exploration of the pride, warmth and happiness that many Muslim girls feel, twinned with the reality of a world that doesn’t accept that this could be the case. It’s reflective of the way I grew up – being constantly pushed to figure out whether I was allowed to feel happy in my skin as a Muslim girl. But while this was all true, this constant internal turmoil didn’t and doesn’t now erase the beauty we found in being Muslim, and the strength we developed in sustaining that belief in an increasingly hostile world.

That’s why THE PROUDEST BLUE ends on a note of the kind of gutsy resilience that’s carried Ibtihaj and I and all our sisters in the faith to who we are today as strong women, women who don’t let others dictate the terms of our happiness.

3. This is a story of familial love and pride as well as one about facing Islamophobia and bullying. Did Asiya’s experience resonate with you or connect to any real life experiences?

There’s a point in the book where Asiya is bullied about the “tablecloth” she’s wearing. This is drawn from Ibtihaj’s experience wearing hijab at school. For me, it was “curtain”. I was constantly called “curtain-head” and told to take off my curtain. While it was certainly hurtful to be bullied in this way, on hindsight it was also so strange and silly that harmless household items, table linen and drapery, were used to taunt us both. In my case, as a young girl, it made me go home and think about how being called “curtain-head” didn’t even make sense. The taunts also made my friends and some peers see the absurdity of being bullied in this way for my religious identity. They tried to join together in shutting it down as much as possible but as we know too well, bullies gonna bully. This is why we wrote the book the way we did – not centering the bully’s transformation or change to become a better person (as many books on bullying tend to do) but focusing on the internal process by which a young person can move on from being attacked for who they are.

4. Do you feel that books featuring Muslims are being created and marketed in a positive way? Are there trends you like or hope will change? What do you think the impact of Muslim-centered literature has on readers?

I get emails every week from young readers grateful for the books they’re seeing in the world now. Each and every one of these letters (from Muslims and non-Muslims) have moved me to tears because at the heart of their correspondence is gratitude for a profoundly simple act: that of being seen.  My tears come from a mixture of spaces – that of happiness for reader glee at connecting deeply with characters I’ve written, that of sadness for their excitement at what is an everyday occurrence for readers of non-marginalized backgrounds, that of personal grief for not ever having seen my Muslim self growing up in a fictional narrative (not even believing that this could actually be the case!), and then, the tears of hot anger.

It’s unconscionable that a) it took so very long for books representing our full humanity to be published (well, the marginal increase since the We Need Diverse Books movement of 2014), that b) it hasn’t made a transformative effect yet, that c) publishing continues to be so homogenous. These young readers are writing me with passion and emotion, so grateful for being accepted as characters on a page, for being human, for being a part of the world. This is unbelievably sad. And has real-world consequences as we see from the increase in publicly shared hate.

I’d like to see the publishing industry move forward and do the work of upending the status quo in their own organizational structures. I’d like to see books featuring marginalized characters, written by marginalized authors, to get more backing from publishers – whether it be with awesome covers, marketing, publicity, becoming lead titles, etc.

The We Need Diverse Books movement was grassroots. People doing the work on the ground. Making things happen.

This shouldn’t be the case once a publishing company is involved; marginalized authors shouldn’t be expected to do the heavy lifting – after being accepted for publication – for their titles to be “seen” by the mainstream. We need diverse books but we also need them pushed like the titles we grew up reading were.  Even if, nowadays, publishing has “evolved” to become equally driven by author publicity initiatives, righting the wrongs of years of erasure and misrepresentation requires this kind of an investment.

That’s what equity is. And that’s the only way we’re going to sustain this movement for books reflecting humanity and not white supremacy.

Questions for Hatem Aly:

 1. Hatem, we feel so fortunate to be able to interview you again for The Proudest Blue. All of your work is beautiful and powerful, and this book is no exception. Obviously blue is the central color of this story, what was your process for choosing the blues for your illustrations?

Thank you very much, it is a pleasure to speak with you again! Yeah, Blue is everywhere in the book and it a central color. I tried different shades of blue at first and settled on a strong and “happy blue” if you may call it. I was trying to show a blue that is present, strong and confident. A shade that is refreshing and empowering. I hope it shows, even to a degree.

2. What was your favorite scene to illustrate in The Proudest Blue? What scene(s) did you find most difficult to create? Why?

I enjoyed very much the dreamy scenes that show Faizah in the context of how she felt..the 2 scenes that come to mind are the one showing Faizah in a paper boat just like the cover thinking: “Asiya’s hijab is like the ocean waving to the sky. It’s always there strong and friendly”. The other scene is when Faizah was looking for her sister after school right before she found her..this scene will overlap with the most difficult scenes which are the ones with the shadowy figures saying hurtful words about Asiya and laughing at her. I wasn’t sure how I’m going to illustrate these and decided to keep them faceless with no significance at least to Faizah. They disturb her but it doesn’t matter who they are, how they look like, or their age or gender and she chose not to pay too much attention to them.

 3. In both Meet Yasmin and The Proudest Blue you are looking at many layers of identity; Identity being central but accepted in Meet Yasmin, and challenged in The Proudest Blue. Did Asiya’s experience resonate with you in your experiences or those of Muslim women that you know? Did Faizah’s?

It is an everyday story to struggle not to give power to hurtful perceptions, actions, and assumptions while maintaining a level of equanimity and pride. As a Muslim man, I can only imagine what women go through. Both Asiya’s and Faizah’s experience is relatable and reoccurring in many versions. I find this book is a great representation of what happens on the other side of acceptance or the lack of it or in spite of it all.

4. Where do you prefer to create art? What are your most useful tools (physical or virtual) or habits that help you in your work? What is your favorite part of the book making process? Most difficult?

I like to work where I can have my tools available and a reasonable degree of isolation with the help of a pair of headphones, so working from my home office is my preferable workspace at the moment. Sometimes I enjoy sketching or taking notes when I’m out in a quiet place especially at the public library. I mostly work digitally since it is convenient and easy to fix if the time is right (and it usually is) I use Adobe Photoshop most of the time with occasional use of Clip Studio paint. However, I love working with pen and ink with some watercolors and pencils as well and find myself longing to use them more often while also exploring and experimenting with other media. So maybe you’ll see some of this in future books.

My favorite part of bookmaking is the most difficult, which is the first stage of trying to translate thoughts into scribbles that make sense, and gradually mapping and giving visual existence to everything. It could be both frustrating and satisfying! The rest is not relaxing but you can always count on a map when you’re lost.

5. You have a background in fine arts. Did you always know that you wanted to be in the arts? Was there something that inspired you to be an artist?

I can’t say it was that clear in my mind, I have always been drawing since I can’t remember but I was pretty bad at being goal-oriented and approached the arts very intuitively making up stuff as I go. I made comics all the time and drew characters from books and cartoons as a child then created my own as I grew older, but until High school I wasn’t sure what should I study or what should my work be and it stressed me out and took me time to trust that I pull off being successful in the arts and it was challenging but the best decision I’ve done.

6. What was an early experience/book where you learned the power of art/illustrations?

This might be an irrelevant answer since I have a very bad memory but I can strongly recall some notebooks my father bought for me to use at school which I found the covers were too beautiful to use so I never used them! The covers were clearly inspired by fairy tales with a Grimm Brothers vibe to them.

7. Who are some of your favorite illustrators? Are there any illustrators that inspire/influence you? As a child, what was your favorite genre to read?

There are so many to add to this list! To mention some I’d say: Laura Carlin, Jon Klassen, Marc Boutavant, Oliver Jeffers, Carson Ellis, Shaun Tan, Tove Jansson, Jillian Tamaki, Beatrice Alamagna, Maurice Sendak, Bill Watterson, Naoki Urasawa, and much more. So many brilliant artists that inspire me.

As a child, I was into fantastical or mythical fiction, Science fiction, humorous writing and pretty much anything else..but I wasn’t very patient with historical or factual events and realistic drama for some reason..this came later. I adored an abridged version of Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels as a child and was so intrigued by it.

8. Did you receive a lot of encouragement from your family in pursuing art? What is the first piece of art that you made that you were incredibly proud of (or that your family was proud of)?

YES! Probably even far more than I encouraged myself and I’m greatly thankful for that! I can’t remember specific ones that they were proud of but I do remember annoying my mother to draw me something instead of me doing all the drawing. While she thinks can’t draw at all she drew a green oval shape that I couldn’t recognize. When I asked her what is it she said: “why, it’s a mango!” I laughed and thought it was the sweetest thing ever.

Posted in Author Interviews

Book Chat with the Illustrator: Hatem Aly for THE PROUDEST BLUE

In expanded coverage of The Proudest Blue: A Story of Hijab and Family by Ibtihaj Muhammad with S.K. Ali and illustrated by Hatem Aly (Little, Brown Books for Young Readers), watch and listen to this interview of Hatem Aly by Victoria Stapleton of Little, Brown Books.

Hatem Aly discusses his approach to illustrating this book and the meaning behind certain illustrations, spread and movement between pages. Thank you, Hatem for your beautiful work and to Little, Brown Books for sharing this interview with us! You can also find LBYR calendar wallpapers for the Proudest Blue on their site.

We have been fortunate to be able to interview Hatem about his work with Saadia Faruqi in Meet Yasmin! Watch this space for our interview with Hatem about The Proudest Blue.

Posted in Book Discussions

Book Discussion: The Proudest Blue

The Proudest Blue: A Story of Hijab and Family. By Ibtihaj Muhammad with S.K. Ali. Illustrated by Hatem Aly. Little, Brown Books for Young Readers (9780316519007)
Publish date: September 10, 2019

Faizah admires older sister Asiya’s new, strikingly blue and beautiful first-day-hijab, finding inner strength and pride when facing bullies at school who make fun of it.

This book discussion was conducted on May 12, 2019 and was based on the fold & gather, received from Little, Brown Books for Young Readers. The conversation has been edited for clarity.

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Ariana: My first appreciation is seeing multiple Muslims involved in the process of this book from the author, Ibtihaj Muhammad with S.K. Ali and illustrated by Hatem Aly. The cover clearly conveys the concepts and themes– beauty of the blue hijab, ocean and sky, the endless possibilities.

Mahasin: For me it is still unusual to see African American Muslim representation in children’s books and seeing people who look like me and my family. To see both faces of the sisters…I think just seeing the cover will just make a lot of little girls in particular really happy.

Ariana: When I went to a presentation for this, there was a reading of the text by Ibtihaj. At that point I had only heard the name Asiya pronounced Aah-si-ya or Aa-si-ya. In the audio recording, her name is pronounced A-see-yuh; it was interesting for me to hear how Asiya’s name is pronounced in her family.  I thought about how it would create a different experience for readers listening to the book and reading the text and how it’s another point of identity that would make the experience of the story richer in this case.

Mahasin: That is not an uncommon pronunciation of the name, especially in African-American communities. I find the ritual of going to the store as a family so powerful, because I think that there’s this idea often times that wearing a scarf is forced upon girls and if they had the choice they wouldn’t choose to wear it. Right at the beginning it’s established that this is a moment of pride, a moment of togetherness, a moment of consent, a moment of choice, and a moment of affirmation.

Ariana: I like differentiation in the scarf style preference between Asiya and her mother, her mother in an abaya and a long khimar, a hint of how they might differ in hijab style. I also like that Asiya’s style without hijab is distinctive and cool.

Mahasin: I love the details of Asiya’s hairstyle. She clearly has cornrows or braids and colorful rubber bands, which are common hairstyles for Black girls. I also appreciate the details of her earrings and jacket. I think of the book Under My Hijab by Hena Khan, and that so often the question that women who wear headscarves get is “What’s going on underneath there? Do you have hair underneath there? Are you bald?” 

This image is important because it normalizes the idea that the person wearing the scarf and not wearing the scarf are the same person. While the scarf has symbolism, it’s simultaneously a piece of clothing and there’s still that person with all the things that humans have underneath. As obvious as that sounds, it is an important statement.

Hadeal: I really enjoyed seeing things from Faiza’s perspective, and her clear admiration of her sister. But even though we don’t get a lot of written explanation of Asiya’s feelings, we can see that she sure herself, with no hesitation, she knows what she wants, and Faiza knows that too. 

Ariana: I appreciate that throughout the book you can still clearly see aspects of Asiya’s personality, like her headphones dangling under her hijab, still there. And as they move through the setting you see more of Faizah, counting her steps with each light up of her shoes, walking with a princess. So she doesn’t think of herself as a princess yet. 

Mahasin: In my bio for the blog I referred to my scarf as a crown. I had debated whether that was cheesy, but decide that it is my truth. This crown on top of my head, regardless of terminology, is an accessory or accent to Blackness, and “Black is beautiful,” that utilizes the language of royalty and recalls “kings and queens” in Africa. It is a common phrase connected to the African American community, the African African Muslim community, Islamic liberation theology, and social and political awareness around Blackness. In my lived experience, Faizah thinking of herself as a princess-in-training, in terms of the headscarf, rings true to me. 

Ariana: Thank you, Mahasin for that clarity. I love the joy of the color blue in the smile of the hijab as Faizah watches Asiya head to sixth grade. The spread that follows has Faizah claiming her joy back from whispers of doubt about Asiya’s scarf. That self-realization and sense of agency was subtle but something that people of color and communities that have experienced oppression have had to do, carrying the idea back to the title of Proud.

Mahasin: I am thinking about the continuum of Ibtihaj going from Proud to the Proudest Blue. I think the theme of not being embarrassed, ashamed or feeling like you have to hide, it stands out to me in conversations about Islam, assimilation and race. It harkens back to being Black and proud and standing up for who you are not feeling like you need to cower.

Hadeal: In the author’s notes, Ibtihaj Muhammad mentions moments when they would wear a scarf as preparation for wearing hijab full-time. This was true in my community, and I appreciated that this story is about self-identifying as Muslim, knowing that you might be treated differently because of your expression of faith, and possibility of being othered. Children picking up will see this story and know that the author went through this, and be encouraged to still be who they are and know who they are,  for whatever reason makes them different, in this case hijab. I appreciate the inclusion of Asiya’s friends, not just in activity but their smiling, supportive faces, not making a big deal out of the change but still reacting when another kid points at Asiya. It’s really important to include, because in my own experience you might not know how to talk about it with your friends and to see that Asiya’s friends are on her side is powerful.

Ariana: The spread with Asiya’s wondering face and friends angry on her behalf held was particularly meaningful in modeling the difference between bystanders, upstanders and allies. 

Asiyah’s experience in hijab is still new, but it is a quick-to-learn lesson that there will always be haters. Hijabis learn to be quick with the brush-off and can become desensitized. But people on the outside seeing hateful experiences can get angry, showing acknowledgment when you might be gaslighting yourself just to cope, because you don’t always have the energy or audacity to be angry, even if you know you have the strength and pride to walk away. They remind you of your right to feel angry and that you deserve to be in a space without feeling othered. The children as shadows without names and faces is also powerful, because many naysayers will be anonymous approachers, people who don’t even know you. And between Asiya’s friends, the naysayers, and the wondering child, there is the underlying question of “who are you in that spectrum?” letting that resonate with the reader, and asking “what would you do in this situation?”

Mahasin: While I don’t want to pit books against each other, I can’t help but think of the joy of this book, Faizah’s happiness in the boat looking at the blue of Asiya’s scarf and the ocean, in juxtaposition to Saffron Ice Cream and the expressions of the anger there. I know we struggled with that book, though it was an own voices story and told a truth that is worth being told, but there are just so few stories that everything becomes prominent. I’m just so happy to see another story with an ocean and a Muslim woman in a scarf, and there is another image that doesn’t convey force, but instead joy.

Ariana: The page with the sky and clouds that talks about hijab being special and regular, is so deliberate. I like that normal isn’t used. So that even if it’s something that is a regular occurence, it’s always going to be special. I like the perspective also, of Asiya’s face in the spread you mentioned, that it just keeps going forward. It’s different from the cover image and the expression of being proud, kind of squared off, while this one is more rounded, comforting and content. 

Mahasin: She’s just riding the waves.

Ariana: Yes! And coupled with their mother’s quote where it says, “‘some people won’t understand your hijab,’ Mama had said. ‘But if you understand who you are, one day they will too.” It’s so beautiful and powerful – it’s becoming my new daily positive affirmation.

Hadeal: Reading this book I thought about kids going through changes, especially girls wearing hijab, and instructions and affirmations they might receive from family about being strong and being proud, but not about treatment from outsiders. So I’m hoping that this book reaches readers who want to learn more, but also parents, adults, and role models who can touch on different things happening in this book but still help affirm identity and prepare a child. 

Mahasin: I struggled a little bit with this and with Yo Soy Muslim by Mark Gonzales because they are picture books that deal with the negativity of how people might respond to us as Muslims. I think about when I would read this to my four-year-old: before an experience or after, and read it as a response. No negativity towards either of the books, but as a parent I’m not really sure…do I protect them from that? Inevitably they end up learning that not everyone likes Muslims. This is a book that I can definitely read in a class visit right or storytime, but if children haven’t had an experience like this am I introducing and idea that might be hurtful or am I addressing something that’s already there? I think of the potential for a child or class who might be working through this or is nervous about it, but I wonder about the child who hasn’t had any negative experiences, what does seeing that in a book do? Does it address something necessary or create a conversation that is unnecessary? I really don’t know.

Hadeal: I see it one of two ways. I think about first day of school books and, whatever level, it is preparing a child to go. I see where you are coming from. But in this situation, at least in my experience, women who didn’t talk about it with their families may have wanted to be warned or introduced to examples, and then affirmed by words like Asiya and Faizah’s mothers, “be who you are and be proud.” It’s a loving book and it’s affirming. It says, “I’m proud to be a Muslim and to wear hijab, and I still have all these friends around me.” 

And it can be used in different ways. Caregivers and teachers often ask for books about bullying when noticing issues and use books or situations to model behavior. It of course is whatever you are comfortable with as a parent, but there are things that children may need or want to know ahead of time. I think of other concepts of safety that you talk to a child about and, for their safety, it would be something that I would want to talk to my child about. And the mother didn’t mention specific examples, but she did warn them that there were always going to be haters, and she had mentioned that to her daughters, but as long as they knew who they were things would work out and I see power in at least being touched upon in the book.

Ariana: We talk about preparation as necessary–the idea of having to prepare your child or even student something hateful–as BIPOC educators as opposed to white educators, or white parents as opposed to Black parents or other IPOC parents. Our kids have to be prepared for a certain level of something. It’s beyond what white children might see or if it’s anything their parents want them to see. There are still so many parents who believe in the color-blind paradigm, that makes part of the world completely invisible and gaslights people, telling them that it’s not really a big deal, and it is, it is a big deal and it’s something we deal with daily. 

I think about hearing things as a young girl and policing of bodies, whether it’s covering or not, unwelcome comments or comments in general that are made about women’s bodies–their size, what they’re wearing–when do we prepare these young women? There is a barrage of negative imagery that women face everyday and that’s just advertisements. This book is a window for readers who are not Muslim or who don’t wear hijab, including Muslim boys and men, to get an understanding of what it’s like to wear hijab and the complexity, because of course there is a lot of policing of women’s bodies in Muslim communities too. 

I think about what kids have already seen, aftermath of Islamophobic events, and never knowing when to expect them. Do we go in prepared or try to maintain innocence as long as possible? In the context of race, avoiding these conversations can uphold white privilege and supremacy. So with hijab, I think it’s expecting discrimination even if you live in an excepting community, or a bubble. Do you keep your kids in Islamic school for as long as possible where they have affirmation of their identity, or do you take them out and they may have to constantly think about their identity and protect their identity, and how do you reinforce that strength and keep giving them that strength so they go out into the world? I know it’s a difficult question and I think it’s a question that’s always going to be difficult. 

Ariana: Moving on, I enjoy Faizah’s drawing and the poetry of picnic on an island where ocean meets sky, and their crowns and matching hijabs. The change in attitude of the little girl who asked Faizah about Asiya’s hijab in line, from questioning to admiration, creates hope.

Mahasin: I love that spread. It’s so representative–Faizah and her brown skin and afro-puffs, her classmate with red hair and green eyes, and their teacher with her olive-tone skin and brown hair. There is so much diversity in that spread but also throughout the book. Each person has a sense of individuality and personality. There are different skin tones and body types and Asiya is just another person that is part of the diversity in their community. 

Ariana: And you can have a very diverse population of students in your school, community or workplace, but if you don’t talk about it, you can still have kids who say, “take that tablecloth off your head” because children won’t be equipped with the language or the understanding to know that it’s wrong, not inclusive, and not acceptable. 

Mahasin: I do wish that this book had been around when I was a kid. I am very conflict averse and I don’t like to call a lot of attention to myself, and I grew up in the South in the 80s. So even though my mom wore a scarf, I can remember going to Piggly Wiggly after Sunday school and telling a little white girl that I had it on because my hair wasn’t done. I think I was just worried about being seen as different and not wanting to stand out. I don’t think that my parents really got it, and wondered why I cared about what other people thought, but it’s powerful seeing someone my age feeling proud about it, so I’m glad the book exists. 

Hadeal: Touching again on the details, I appreciated that the bullies were shadows without faces that they walk away or cartwheel away from, and ultimately they are just shadows that are not given much power or weight to. There is so much symbolism there. 

Ariana: Right. How much do we let the shadows interfere with who we are? It’s kind of like djinn in a way. All these little formless whispers that creep at you that make you question yourself. And again there are those power words of preparation from their mother to not, “carry around the hurtful words other say. Drop them they’re not yours to keep. They belong to those who said them.” It’s giving others accountability, not taking in these messages and internalizing them, not just as Muslims or as women but as human beings– that it’s not that there’s something wrong with you. But it’s about being able to take space and make space. It seems so simple but there is power in asserting yourself and being proud and standing up who you are and making people recognize that you deserve to be in a space and you deserve space. 

Hadeal: Isn’t it sad that we have to think that way? You find yourself in a space and have to take inventory and be aware of who you are in that space and what is making you “the other?”

Mahasin: So it’s a good reminder for adults too to be proud, don’t worry about the people in the shadows, live your life out loud and keep it moving.

Ariana: Faizah is so strong and defiant against the boy, and later looks for those whispers and shouts which goes back to your point Hadeal about feeling out spaces and preparing yourself for the possibility of confrontation. And Faizah is protective of her sister, of her community, her family but then she sees Asiya, “waiting for me like it’s a regular day. She’s smiling. She’s strong.” And in that moment she recognizes that Asiya doesn’t really need Faizah to protect her or her feelings, but having her back and having her there, it doesn’t mean it’s not appreciated. And then the whole relationship between the sisters like ocean and sky with no line in between them, it was just a lovely sentiment.

Mahasin: I like the end notes that show there is support from both parents. 

Ariana: That’s the only time you see the father, and that’s powerful too. The conversation and wisdom and instruction is in the voice of the mother and it’s so warm. 

Hadeal: I just really like this book and I’m glad that it exists. I’m glad that there are more books like this coming out.