Poet shares her black pride with kids

This story is a song, a eulogy, a love poem. This story is from the heart of Sandy Lynne Holman.

She dreamed it one day at school.

At A Glance Sandy Holman will read and discuss her children's book "Grandpa, Is Everything Black Bad?" at the Black History Month celebration "Africa, the Mother of Civilization," 6-9:30 p.m. Friday at the Pannell Community Center, 2450 Meadowview Road. 277-6195.

One day, a teacher and a young girl who was crying visited Holman, a counselor for the North Sacramento School District at the time.

"They (the class) had had a history lesson on slavery," says Holman. " 'Please talk to her,' the teacher pleaded. 'She doesn't want to admit she's black, that her ancestors were slaves.' "

Holman, who is African American, says that the girl's reaction made her want to cry.

Retelling the incident in the sun-drenched kitchen of her Davis home, Holman, whose long, black hair glints in the bright light, says that when she was the girl's age she knew enough about her heritage to know that slavery was only one chapter of a very rich book. Her grandfather told her stories about a lineage that went as far back as the Pyramids.

Holman gave the crying girl a book. The next week she gave her another, and then another. They were all stories about famous African Americans.

But Holman noticed that one book was missing: a book about African American pride, a book for children about being the color black.

"Grandpa, Is Everything Black Bad?" was her answer. Holman's 32-page children's book, to be published in March, is her song of African pride. She lays out in verse the words of self-doubt she so often hears from children. Then she fights the stereotypes with an African history lesson.

"Whenever I did a self-esteem program (at schools), the kids with the most negative stereotypes were African American kids," says Holman. She will sell the self-published book for $18.95 through The Culture C.O.-O.P. (530-792-1334).

"I'd hold up pictures of different people and ask, 'Who's the most likely not to go to college? Who's most likely to go to jail?' Almost invariably, they chose black kids. When we played with dolls, they always chose the dark dolls as bad."

In Holman's book, Montsho, the central character, is like many of the children Holman works with as a diversity consultant for the state. Montsho points out all the negative connotations associated with the color black:

"It's dark, black and scary in my bedroom at night. So I hide under the covers when Dad turns out the light.

"I like watching TV, but sometimes I'm sad because most white things are good and most black things are bad.

"People wear the color black when somebody dies. They look very sad and have tears in their eyes."

Montsho brings his list of black images, and his unease, to his grandfather. "Tell me Grandpa, is everything black bad? I'm black. So, does that make me bad, too?"

Grandpa's answer becomes a journey back in time, visiting African jungles and the Egyptian desert, depicted in brilliant watercolors and ink by illustrator Lela Kometiani.

Kometiani's illustrations and Holman's poetry work together to create a magical world of rhythm and color. Much of what's in the book come from the stories that Holman's own grandfather, Rufus Holman, passed on to her.

"He would say, 'You don't see anyone important who looks like you? Who does that look like?' " she says, explaining that he would show her a picture of a Nefertiti sculpture -- a queen of stone with full lips and wide nose.

He had countless images of African kings and queens to show her, and books on African Americans to share. Today, those same images hang on the walls of her home beside photographs of her more immediate ancestors, including Rufus Holman.

The elder Holman died suddenly in November. "This (the book) is also a way to pay tribute to my grandfather," she says, softly crying. He hated eulogies, she says, but with his lessons and his image presented throughout the book, she says she thinks he would approve.

"I never had an identity crisis like some people do because of Grandpa. I never was ashamed. I never wanted my nose to be smaller, my lips to be smaller," says Holman. "It's especially sad these young kids have identity crises."

Her book is a poem to them, to love themselves and their histories. She says the book can be read by kids up to sixth grade. She hopes to write more children's books and trace the history of other cultures.

"This is a gentle reminder to parents to read to their kids and to teach their heritage," she says. "When people have a sense of their own legacy, they're more open to learn others."