Our family was multicultural. Even within our own household, we had people of different belief systems and different countries of origin. And then of course I grew up in a city, in Oakland, where my neighbors came in as many colors, ideas, and religions as there are people. So if this is a part of your life, and my case it was, I think it was pretty natural to write from that point of view.
It’s interesting. I’ve moved back to rural America. I’ve moved away from the city. And I didn’t realize that not every child has the glory of growing up in a neighborhood where people are different than they are. And they don’t have the glory of understanding why other people do what they do and say different prayers and eat different food, and perhaps even dress differently or look differently.
So I think that’s another thing that literature, especially multicultural literature, does: it gives them an understanding that they otherwise are not going to have. They’re not going to hear it in their own homes. So if they can read authentic stories and understand that the heart of humanity is the same — it doesn’t matter how we’re packaged on the outside, we’re all the same — I think that does a great service to molding a child to be a citizen of the world.
