Fall 2005
Volume II, Issue 3

Off the shelf: Jerry Pinkney and The Old African
The Old African defies categorization—it could be considered a picture book or a novella or even a resource for scholars of African-American history. The many starred reviews it has already received show that it is already an indisputable classic in the making. A story of cruelty and slavery, The Old African doesn't pull any punches. At the same time, it offers a miraculous redemption that still has its roots in a specific legend, time, and place. Here, K-12 MediaShelf editor Ellen Myrick interviews acclaimed illustrator Jerry Pinkney. To find out how your school or library can win a visit from Mr. Pinkney, please see the end of this article.

Ellen Myrick: You and Julius Lester were born 11 months apart—a point that Dr. Lester makes in his note at the end. What do you think it is about this shared frame of reference that makes your partnership so strong, so effective, creative, and innovative?
Jerry Pinkney: He [Julius Lester] was born, raised, and educated in the South, and I was raised in the north. That's interesting in itself. Mine was more from a distance, more a learned experience. I came of age at a time when there was a very acute awareness of injustice. We were both in our early twenties in the 60s, during the Civil Rights Movement. We both participated—Julius' history is very powerful. I did some voter registration in Boston, protests. I had an awareness of his activities and saw that it was something heroic that we in the north read about. The other thing we share is a sense of history and wanting to tell that story no matter how painful. You see, the range and swing of the project shows the range and fullness in African life, the wonderful language and storytelling. I remember going to a conference in the Midwest and there was a panel of writers who were each asked how they came to write. Several were from the south. There's a richness in storytelling coming out of that oral tradition. My parents were from the south and migrated to Philadelphia and they brought with them timing and rhythm and storytelling. In this interesting dance that Julius and I have partnered in, most of the stories come out of an interest that we both share. He is a good listener. When the conversation came around to who might illustrate and write John Henry, I thought at that point that I might adapt it. At first, he was cool to the idea—he called me and we had a conversation asking me why I had an interest in John Henry. He understood my connection to the material, and we talked about how the story paralleled Martin Luther King, Jr. From that experience grew respect and trust. It was never planned. It just unfolded.

EM: The story is based on an Ybo legend. Tell us about the Ybo and the research you did to ensure your vision's authenticity. You have said that your first reaction was that this story didn't need pictures. Why do you think that Dr. Lester wanted pictures and what do you feel that this illustrated novel approach contributes that unadorned text would not?
Jerry:
I remember that pocket of time very clearly—not knowing how to broach it with Phyllis Fogelman. Just letting it percolate. Phyllis discussed it with Julius, and Julius said he wrote it with me in mind and that it would be fully illustrated. My response is that if he wrote it with me in mind, then I can find a way of making it work. It took both of those experiences—feeling that I could not and there was no need for illustrations and the fact that he had written it for me—to give me license so that the pictures both reflect the story and the Ybo. Even though it's fiction, in Julius' mind, in my mind, it was real. I didn't allow myself to entertain the thought that it wasn't real. The spirituality of the people, the harshness of slavery manifested itself. I'm not sure I could invest it with as much emotional pull otherwise. I wanted to individualize the story.

Regarding learning about the Ybo, I have to say the stars were aligned—I started at the Schomberg [Center for Research in Black Culture]. I visited with Howard Dodson and a young lady there who was involved with the African Studies program. I showed them the dummy, and they told me that they just happened to have received this manuscript that deals with the Ybo and offered to share it with me. I gave the author of the manuscript a wish list. I was pretty desperate—I had been doing research, and the Schomberg couldn't offer any kind of pictorial reference. There was nothing in terms of wardrobe, and it was important to me for the illustrations to speak to the Ybo culture. My whole idea was based on the fact that I was going to support Julius Lester with this research.

EM: Finding this resource really helped you turn the corner.
Jerry:
John received my wish list—it was a huge effort on his part, and he wrote out the descriptions that I needed so much. I knew this was a window for me with John, working with not only a historian but an Ybo. There was a spiritual quality he had. One of the fears I had was the question of whether this was this an American story rather than an African story. And I'm asking an Ybo to support this story? You hear that Africans feel that they're separate. Once I was in the space, could he respond the same way? He sent me a note and at the end, he writes “It is likely that Ybo slaves at St. Solomon's Island who swam home were greatly influenced by ethical values and ideals of their goddess of morality which stood for peace and social justice. The drastic decision they took suggests that they found slavery repulsive and against the ethical laws of their society.”

EM: How did this affect the way you pursued the project?
Jerry:
It was okay, he's claiming it as well. It's not just a story about enslaved Ybo—he's claiming it from the African perspective. After that, everything else became just a reference. That was the fuel that allowed me to commit that kind of time. It was such an emotional drain plus there were things that lifted me, and I did need that. You had to always believe that this is a story that needed to be told, and it was worth going through that to tell the story. Some of the things I needed to hold onto made it important to give up other things.

EM: How did you and Julius Lester work together?
Jerry:
I shared the sketches with Julius, and we were always connected and responsive. All of the projects I've had with Julius—with the exception of Uncle Remus—became collaborations. There were times when out of the questioning or suggesting something, Julius thinking that was not what he had a mind but a meeting, but I look forward to those because something comes out of it that is much more inventive and interesting.

EM: The overall subject of slavery is something you have dealt with before. How do you deal with ithow do you find and show some hope?
Jerry:
Yes, I have done other projects that dealt with slavery. One particular piece for National Geographic was about a slave auction: a “Scramble Auction.” Slaves gathered on a deck of a ship and a guard would fire a pistol and the owner would grab as many as he could in a short amount of time. I've done research on the history of slavery, not just African slavery. I had to find a way within that to show a sense of humanity even among the slaves who would be disoriented. I had to find something that would show some sense of individuality, which could come in a variety of ways, such as trying to protect or cover themselves. I always try to focus on some aspect that shows the humanity of being enslaved. The best example of this in The Old African is the whipping scene and you see how the slaves are holding hands. They're always trying to protect one another. In most cases, I could find something except in the hull of the ship. It was not there, it could not be there. That was the hardest of all.

EM: What is your favorite illustration from those you created for The Old African?
Jerry:
The most interesting was the floor of the ocean as they walked back home, seeing the headwraps coming off. I approached it with a sense of total discovery. And I love it when they're coming out of the ocean, I had to give the effect of joy. In this case, the only way I could do it was that I needed to feel the sense of joy. There's a brightness—I went through the same journey as the text. On the last spread I was completely free. We couldn't figure out a dramatic ending and so it ends with this illustration. No one has ever seen a book end with a full color spread.

EM: How would you suggest to teachers and librarians that they use this book?
Jerry:
To me, one of the things I feel most strongly about is that it told two stories—the first story about the brutality and horror of slavery and also the human will to survive and the strong need for one to believe in something, in themselves. In some sense, one of the things that always seemed to be lacking in the material that I had read was that there was always a distance. This happens because sometimes, within the slave narratives, it might have been in dialect or hard for someone to express what they feel inside. The intent for me as the illustrator was to have the reader connect with the heart of that person. Julius described what it was like to be in the hull of the ship, and he gave us the physicality of it while also communicating that these were all individuals responding in different ways. I want the reader to connect with one of those folks. It's the one thing that says this book is different, gives a deeper, fuller picture.

Win a visit from Jerry Pinkney
Ingram Library Services and Penguin Books for Young Readers are offering a chance for a school or library to receive a visit from one of the most celebrated illustrators of our time. Find out more about the essay contest.

Inside This Issue...
Quicklists | Off the Shelf | Delving into the Shelves | Reference Preference | Shelf Elf | Home