As an aspiring writer I have been greatly taken up with rejection letters and new writing projects. So on Saturday I decided to step back from it all, look around and see what other writers in my city are doing. In celebration of Black History Month, I found one children's author reading her books at the Public Library. I expect to conduct author visits myself, so I went to see a real professional in action. It was great! Lots of children were there. They came in a variety of shades. Black, white and otherwise. The author opened up her reading with an interactive song. The children danced and sang. The joy of goofiness and delight was on each face. Then the author stated her purpose for visiting the library and sharing with the children. She explained that her presentation was in celebration of heritage and Black History Month. Instantly, a little boy about 4 years old raises his flailing hand. He wants very much to say something to the author. She asks him to speak and he matter-of-factly responds, "but I'm not black!" So the little boy was not black as the color of a piano key. But his racial identify by virture of his very present mama and daddy, was black. The little boy extended his two tanned arms. "I'm white! See!" All the grown folk and the children laughed. His parents laughed too. No doubt they would hold that family discussion during the drive home. The author giggled. She responded with an "OK!" And moved on to read her book. It was an awkward, innocent moment. As an aspiring literary figure, it is a moment that gave me clarity. I make a new declaration today. Whatever I write should be composed with purpose. Be it humorous or dramatic and wrenching, all of my words should ultimately...inspire appreciation, pride and love for self. From this very moment, I dedicate all my writing talents to a little boy named DJ. May you never be ashamed, NEVER!