Tag: VA Festival of the Book

One day, Psyche Williams-Forson’s daughter stopped letting her father pack Ghanaian food for her lunch. Her lunchbox smelled different than others, and she didn’t want to be made fun of. This is still a familiar scene for some American students coming from migrant families, and unless people rethink their understanding of food culture, it will be for future generations too, Williams-Forson says.

“It’s a sad story, and we’ll say, ‘Oh, that’s horrible,’ but we don’t teach our kids anything different,” she says. “The cycle repeats. It’s not just about the food. It affects the person’s whole being.” In an effort to break this cycle, Williams-Forson wrote Eating While Black: Food Shaming and Race in America, which she will discuss at the Virginia Festival of the Book.

In an era of what the University of Maryland professor calls “food hysteria,” where people fight to define their diets by trendy labels like “organic,” “clean,” and “local,” Eating While Black argues that Black Americans remain connected to important traditions, cultures, and histories by eating foods often shamed for not fitting within these categories. Eating While Black is also the culmination of Williams-Forson’s passion for delving into African American history, which began while studying literature at the University of Virginia on her way to majoring in English, African American studies, and women’s studies.

“It occurred to me that I was really interested in the context in which these texts were emerging,” Williams-Forson says. “And in order to find out the context, the historicity, you have to do a little bit more research. You have to go outside the text itself.” As a research assistant during graduate school at the University of Maryland College Park in the 1990s, Williams-Forson found there was little information available about African American foodways. Her searches for Black food history turned up only old cookbooks with recipes for collard greens and cornbread. “I was being told the same thing: These are foods that Black folks tend to eat,” Williams-Forson says. “What I was curious about is, why were we eating these foods? And that question opened up a whole world for me.”

This journey into the history of Black Americans’ relationship with food took Williams-Forson everywhere, from the annals of the U.S. Department of Agriculture to the archives of Alderman Library. Growing up, the author had been told Black food culture descended from enslaved people being forced to eat only scraps of discarded food. Her research painted a very different picture. Williams-Forson read about ships that carried to America not only enslaved people but ingredients from their homelands, from okra to melons to black-eyed peas. She found evidence that some enslaved people were able to hunt and forage, and that they introduced new cooking techniques like deep frying to the continent while preparing these foods. She learned that even while under horrific subjugation, enslaved people began a complex and variegated food culture, one that exists today in everything from traditional Southern dishes to Louisiana Creole foods.

By expanding upon this history in Eating While Black, Williams-Forson hopes she can encourage African Americans to discuss the origins of why they are shamed, and why they shame others, for what they eat. “Will everyone agree with me? Absolutely not,” Williams-Forson says. “But at least we can have a conversation about it, and recognize that some of the things you’ve heard growing up, some of the things that you think about other people or about yourself, are actually not true.”

Psyche Williams-Forson will appear at Food and Blackness at the Jefferson School African American Heritage Center on Friday, March 24.

The poems in John Keene’s latest collection, Punks: New & Selected Poems, span three decades, saturated with the desire, loss, and reflections of a Black gay man who lived through the early days of the AIDS epidemic and continues to navigate our contemporary traumas and tragedies.

Keene received the 2022 National Book Award for Poetry and the 2022 Lambda Literary Award for Gay Poetry for Punks, among other honors. A Cave Canem and MacArthur fellow, as well as a respected literary translator, he is perhaps best known for his fiction, including Counternarratives, his 2015 collection of short stories, where his acute appreciation for linguistics mixes with a honed ability to inhabit history—qualities that are on full display in Punks as well. 

Divided into seven sections, Punks covers a breadth of eras and emotive ranges, from the poems in “Playland”—many of which were originally published in a 2016 chapbook by the same name—which evoke G&Ts in gay bars with throbbing beats, celebrating the embodied joy that we experience in life, to sections that commemorate and mourn the victims of the Pulse nightclub shooting, the Black men and women who continue to die at the hands of U.S. police, and the people whose lives were lost early in the HIV/AIDS epidemic, to name a few.  

The book’s eponymous poem appears about halfway through, dedicated “after and for Martin Wong,” the queer Chinese American painter best known for his paintings of the Lower East Side and Chinatown in the 1980s, who was lost in 1999 to the ongoing HIV/AIDS epidemic. Keene’s poem is written in all capital letters, echoing a style Wong used in artist statements, at once conjuring his paintings and witnessing the isolation, confusion, and stigma that surrounded the death of so many (but especially other gay men) before much was known about HIV/AIDS:  

GREW UP TEETHING ON JADE GREENER 
THAN CREME

DE MENTHE STILL STUCK HERE
IN THE HOSPITAL IN

ISOLATION BECAUSE THEY THINK
I MIGHT HAVE TB I

NEEDED A VACATION ANYWAY MAYBE YOU CAN COME

VISIT ME THEY ARE ACTING LIKE
I AM RADIOACTIVE 

In “Underground,” Keene bears witness to “a system underwritten in blood,” drawing a line between the civil rights movement and a too-familiar encounter between a Black man and police, invoking legacies of trauma: 

Life at the end 
of the world.
Waiting, exhaling. 
There was no gun on the ground 
beside him. 
Train your eyes on the black
space behind them.

In “Pulse,” Keene’s approach is more of a collection of snapshots, giving voice to those murdered and wounded on June 12, 2016, in Orlando, Florida, through details like these:

We are the bitter beer, fizzy soda
and sweet cocktail.

We are the chairs rearranged to open
the floor. 

We are the sweaty brows,
the half-hidden tears. 

We are the gleam of smartphone screens. 

We are the small talk, the banter,
the laughter. 

We are the claps and the clap backs. 

Indeed, at times, the collection reads like a eulogy, referencing and dedicating works to countless artists and musicians—including jazz legends John Coltrane, Dizzy Gillespie, Bill Evans, and others—celebrating their influence while mourning their absence. As a whole, Punks is a wonder, balancing the joy and the pain of life through a chorus of perspectives, as well as an improvisational energy that is grounded in formal curiosity and playfulness, even when tackling the darkest moments of our modern time.

John Keene will appear at the National Book Foundation Presents: An Afternoon with the National Book Awards at the Jefferson School African American Heritage Center on Saturday, March 25.

Writing a book is an admirably impressive feat in its own right, but adapting an Old English epic—that happens to be quite violent—into a tale palatable for children? Yeah, Zach Weinersmith did that.

Bea Wolf (pronounced Bee-wolf) is Weinersmith’s illustrated, comedic retelling of Beowulf that follows a gang of troublemaking kids as they defend their treehouse from Mr. Grindle, a fun-hating adult who can turn kids into grown-ups with the touch of a finger. 

Where many children’s and middle-grade books are (rightfully so) vehicles to entertain and teach valuable life lessons, Bea Wolf is a story in which kids rule supreme. It’s utter anarchy, but in the best way possible. When asked to sum it up in three words, Weinersmith went with “kids being bad.”

“I do think there’s maybe not as much of a place as I’d like for stuff that’s just trying to be ridiculous and fun and artistic,” says Weinersmith. 

The Beowulf archetype might seem like an unusual choice for a fun tale about the tragedy of growing up, but Weinersmith makes it work with admirable ease. 

“So I am an English literature major,” he says, laughing. “I enjoy Milton and Shakespeare and all these boring dead people. They’re wonderful to me, and the oldest long poem in an English language is Beowulf, and by sort of luck and chance it happens to be one of the great ones.”

“[Beowulf] is perceived to be kind of dusty and stuffy,” he says, “but it’s actually pretty readable. There’s a lot of monster fighting, and when it’s not monster fighting, it’s people fighting, and you know, it’s quite bouncy!”

Weinersmith wasn’t just inspired by Beo­wulf’s plot for his retelling, he also drew inspiration from the way it was written, keeping the alliteration found in the original Old English and incorporating kennings, or word riddles.

You can find both at play in a passage where Bea, the hero of Weinersmith’s epic, recounts her victory over a horde of lake monsters: “On they came, clasping, clawing, catching nothing / each famished but unfed, flushed back by my furious force! / Hating me as I heaved them down the cola-dark deeps, / never to rise more, lest they know the nap of the knuckle.” 

Charming black-and-white illustrations from French cartoonist Boulet accompany Virginia-based Weinersmith’s witty words, imbuing an already funny tale with even more hilarity, heart, and plenty of visual Easter eggs.

Though the children poke fun at all the terrible aspects of being teenagers and adults—homework, mortgages, cable TV—it never feels egregious, and adult readers will also get a kick out of Weinersmith’s celebration of idealized childhood, where candy consumption is unlimited, bedtime is a whim, and working as a cashier at a grocery store is basically a death sentence.

Virginia-based author Zach Weinersmith will appear at Telegraph Books Uptown on Saturday, March 25.

As a youth, George Floyd dreamed of being a Supreme Court justice, a professional athlete, a rap star. 

Washington Post reporters Robert Samuels and Toluse Olorunnipa document those dreams and the impact of systemic racism on Floyd’s life in their book, His Name is George Floyd: One Man’s Life and the Struggle for Racial Justice. They’ll be in Charlottesville to talk about it at this year’s Virginia Festival of the Book.

The book came out of an October 2020 six-part series in the Post. The picture of Floyd that emerged from the series and Samuels and Olorunnipa’s year of reporting “is that of a man facing extraordinary struggles with hope and optimism, a man who managed to do in death what he so desperately wanted to achieve in life: change the world,” they write.

Much of Floyd’s experience as a Black man in America resonates with Samuels. “The biggest example was the idea that if he encountered a stranger, people would often assume the worst,” says Samuels. “I think that feeling is something that resonates with lots of Black people, particularly Black men.” They exist in a world of constant fear that they might be killed, “more specifically by a police officer,” he says. 

And the biggest difference between Floyd and Samuels’ experiences as Black men? “I did not encounter [former Minneapolis police officer] Derek Chauvin on May 25th,” says Samuels.

The writers found surprises in learning about Floyd’s life and getting inside his head when he wasn’t there to be interviewed. He left letters, poems, and raps he’d written. “Obviously he was a creative guy,” says Samuels. Floyd wondered why his life was not better and often blamed himself. “I don’t think people would assume he was so reflective.”

Another surprise was learning Floyd was reading and writing at grade level in the third grade, when he aspired to sit on the U.S. Supreme Court after a lesson on Thurgood Marshall. Educators say third-grade reading levels define how far one goes academically. “That really begs the question,” says Samuels, “‘What happened?’”

The authors were amazed to learn that Floyd’s great-great-grandfather, Hillery Thomas Stewart, born enslaved, was one of the wealthiest Black landowners in the South by 1870, and owned 500 acres in Harnett County, North Carolina—until Jim Crow-era white businessmen and officials stripped the illiterate Stewart of his holdings through complex, fraudulent financial instruments and tax auctions. 

The family lost its land in a single generation, says Samuels. Research proved the story “a lot more terrifying than what the family said.” 

With the January 7 police beating of Tyre Nichols in Memphis, many wonder whether anything has changed since Chauvin put his knee on Floyd’s neck. Samuels sees a lot of changes stemming from the widest protest movement in the history of this country.

“At least 16 states have banned no-knock raids or chokeholds as a direct line to the movement we saw with George Floyd’s death,” he says. Greater, immediate accountability occurred in Nichols’ death, with the five accused police officers fired even before the videos were released publicly, he adds.

Other changes aren’t so great—or are nonexistent. Federal police reform fizzled on Capitol Hill. When Samuels and Olorunnipa started writing, the books on racism that people said everyone should read are now ones people say should be banned, notes Samuels. 

And in 2020, it seemed many were ready to have robust discussions about the fuller truths of this country’s history and its relationship with systemic racism. Now, “those are really uncomfortable questions for a host of people,” says Samuels. “You can see that with what is going on in Florida. I think there’s a real heightened challenge in this country on how we should handle and present our history and what we should learn from these moments.”

Robert Samuels and Toluse Olorunnipa will appear at the National Book Foundation Presents: An Afternoon with the National Book Awards at the Jefferson School African American Heritage Center on Saturday, March 25.

A Romance Salon: American Royalty

Tracey Livesay’s steamy rom-com American Royalty is the first in a new series inspired by Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s real-life love story. Rapper Danielle “Duchess” Nelson turns the palace upside down when she falls for reclusive Prince Jameson. Livesay will discuss her work, answer questions, and sign copies at this informal salon. March 23, 11am, Central Library and virtual

Deaf Utopia with Nyle DiMarco

Is there anything Nyle DiMarco can’t do? The deaf activist’s smoldering good looks and killer dance moves earned him first place on “America’s Next Top Model” and “Dancing with the Stars.” And with the release of Deaf Utopia: A Memoir—and a Love Letter to a Way of Life, he’s a New York Times best­selling author too. In conversation with Wawa Snipe. March 24, 2pm, The Paramount Theater

No Ordinary Crimes: A Thriller Hour

Whodunit—the vigilante anti-hero, the cartel hitman, or a group of women assassins celebrating early retirement? Find out when E.A. Aymar, Gabino Iglesias, and Deanna Raybourn discuss their respective thrillers: No Home for Killers, The Devil Takes You Home, and Killers of a Certain Age. March 25, 11am, Central Library

Newbery Authors Panel

Local author Andrea Beatriz Arango, whose Iveliz Explains It All earned a 2023 Newbery Honor award, is joined by fellow Newbery medalist Meg Medina, author of Merci Suárez Plays
It Cool, to talk about writing books they wish were on shelves when they were in middle school. March 25, 12:30pm, Central Library

Crowns & Claws: Coming of Age in YA Fantasy Fiction

Debut authors Emily Thiede and Andrew Joseph White join local educator Amber Loyacano to discuss Thiede’s This Vicious Grace, which follows Alessa as she balances saving her home, finding love, and harnessing her power, and White’s Hell Followed With Us, about trans teen Benji, who finds refuge in a LGBTQ+ center in a post-apocalyptic world. March 25, 4pm, New Dominion Bookshop and virtual