2020 is on its way out and I’m trying to clear my plate. I had hoped to publish this picture book back in February but the illustrator wasn’t done and then the pandemic changed everything…then I moved to IL and now I’m waiting on the final proof so I can finally hit “publish.” It’s an imperfect book—I gave up on my original vision a long time ago and now it just needs to land in the hands of kids in Central PA. I found myself thinking about my own childhood and introduction to Black history; when I was six or seven, my father led a summer camp to teach kids about our African heritage. I don’t remember learning anything about Black Canadian history, but we met at a school in downtown Toronto and made papier-mâché African masks and we watched Roots on VHS. I tried to leave the room before Levar Burton was whipped but my father dragged me back in. There was a playground nearby that had orange tube slides…the cover of this new book makes me think about the 1970s and the colors of my childhood. Gracie’s art is far more sophisticated than anything I could produce as a child, but it still reminds me of that summer camp and our attempts to connect with something new and important but also remote. That’s how 2021 feels right now—new, important, but remote. I attempted a five-year plan and once again fell short…the one-year plan was a bit better but compared to previous years, it looks a bit thin. It’s hard to plan when we don’t know what the future holds. The vaccine is here but won’t be widely available for several more months. My plan for 2020 started with a long list of work-related travel—not this year, and hopefully never again. Maybe we’ll be able to fly safely by September, maybe not. I don’t miss my hectic travel schedule and intend to earn a living from royalties and advances going forward. That means I have to finish projects—I’ve got 3 books due in January—and then I need to pay attention to the partial manuscripts that have already garnered interest from editors. Then what? It was interesting to watch Soul over the weekend. A Black jazz pianist finally gets his big break but dies before he can take the stage; looking back at his life, he realizes it was quite empty and finally performing on stage as part of a famous quartet doesn’t leave him feeling fulfilled. I listened to a podcast yesterday about how humans synthesize experiences in order to keep moving on—the things we think will destroy us, actually don’t. But the things we expect to make us happy might not be as satisfying as expected. Either way, we fold good and bad things into our lives until they lose significance over time. If that’s true, what *really* matters? The expert on the podcast felt that renewal was key—you never fully arrive at a place of professional or personal satisfaction, but we all have the capacity to keep searching. Sounds exhausting! But it’s also a relief because it means you don’t have to have everything figured out by the time you reach ____. Your whole life can be devoted to setting goals and searching for purpose, and experiencing failure or disappointment won’t change that. You just pick yourself up and keep trying different approaches, experiences, paths. Works for me! I’m thinking more about my next professional shift. Professor to author to…?

I hope you found some peace and joy over the holidays…here’s to a MUCH better 2021!