Music Credits:  “NY” composed and performed by Kosta T, from the cd Soul Sand. Used courtesy if the Free Music Archive.

Jo Reed: From the National Endowment for the Arts, this is Art Works, I’m Josephine Reed

(Jaja’s African Hair Braiding excerpt)

Jo Reed: You just heard an excerpt from the Arena Stage production of Jaja’s African Hair Braiding which was written by the award-winning playwright and my guest today Jocelyn Bioh. Set in a bustling Harlem salon on a hot summer day, Jaja’s African Hair Braiding offers a comedic slice-of-life look at the lives of 10 women, both workers and customers, navigating the challenges of their daily lives. With enormous humor and heart, the play shines a light on the rich, diasporic diversity of the African community in New York.  Jocelyn Bioh also wrote the multi-award-winning School Girls; Or, The African Mean Girls Play and won the 2022 Drama Desk Award for her Outstanding Adaptation of Merry Wives for Shakespeare in the Park. Jaja’s African Hair Braiding was nominated for five Tony Awards including best play. And it’s easy to see why: it is a funny, welcoming workplace comedy with a lot of important things to say about immigrants and immigration. Jaja’s African Hair Braiding is now playing at Washington DC’s Arena Stage and I am so happy to welcome Jocelyn Bioh

Jocelyn welcome!

Jocelyn Bioh: Thank you

Jo Reed: Jocelyn, your play, Jaja's African Hair Braiding, takes us into a salon in Harlem for one long summer day. What inspired this play and this setting?

Jocelyn Bioh: Wow. So many things. Well, first of all, I'm from New York City. I grew up in Washington Heights and have spent a lot of time since I was like four or five years old going to hair braiding shops in Harlem where I still go and get my hair braided every, you know, a couple of months. And I think I realized like how ripe with storytelling and comedy these spaces were. The different women who worked in the shop, the different people who came in and out of the shop, not even just customers, but, you know, vendors, people selling things, people who are meeting a friend. So they just felt like there was like a lot of story there. And I always thought it could be a cool setting for a play. It wasn't until a few years ago where there was a lot of conversation happening about immigration and types of immigration reform that were trying to be introduced. And immigration in some ways only had one face. And I saw the faces of these African women who worked in the shop, who were watching the news all the time and who were really concerned and quite frankly terrified by some of the rhetoric that was going around about immigrant communities. And I just thought I wanted to have an answer to that and kind of humanize the experiences and the people behind immigration. And so I put those two things together in a play.

Jo Reed: And it is fabulous.

Jocelyn Bioh: Thank you.

Jo Reed: It is rare for a play to have a world premiere on Broadway, but you did with this play. How did this happen? And what was that journey like going from an early reading to, hello, we're going to Broadway?

Jocelyn Bioh: Well, I mean, honestly, quite fast. It was pretty unorthodox. And so this is not normal, this is not a thing where many playwrights, and my playwriting colleagues, have not had this experience, and so I expected that I was going to have to go through a lot more tests, I guess, to get to Broadway. In normal circumstances, a playwright will write a play and then you send it off to a theater or some sort of play development institution and you usually develop it for-- it could be from a few months to a number of years, honestly, before a theater is willing to slot it in and get it produced. In the case of Jaja's MTC, Manhattan Theater Club, in New York is a incredible nonprofit theater organization that has a good fortune of having a Broadway house, which is pretty rare for many nonprofit theaters in New York. And so they had read the play and they really liked it and they wanted to do a reading of it for their artistic team and some invited friends, which included the woman who ran the theater, Lynne Meadow. And so we had this beautiful, lovely reading. We rehearsed for like, I don't know, maybe two or three days. It was a really  kind of, quick and dirty rehearsal process. We did the reading, and then maybe 15 minutes after the reading was over, me and my director, Whitney White, were asked to come up to the head of the theater's office, Lynne's office, and I had no idea what she was going to say. And we sat down and she was just like, "So, we have to do this play, and we have to do it on Broadway." And I was pretty stunned. Me and my director were pretty stunned. We were like, "Whoa." And we knew that the play felt like a Broadway play, we knew that it deserved to be there, we knew we would be ready for the challenge of opening it cold on Broadway. I don't think we anticipated 15 minutes after the reading, we'd get that offer. So it was a real surprise, but a great one.

Jo Reed: Yeah, well, five Tony nominations later and how many, two extensions?

Jocelyn Bioh: Yeah.

Jo Reed: So extraordinary. Because the play moved to Broadway so early in the process, how important were the collaborations with the actors and the creative team as you were putting it together?

Jocelyn Bioh: I mean, there was actually so much unique development and collaboration with the play. From the day that we were asked, or we were told, given the offer that we would go to Broadway, we had a little over a year before the play was actually going to premiere on Broadway based on the time slot that they gave us. So we also knew that we had to have some really quick discussions with some of our design team. And between Whitney and I, we called in all of our big heavy hitters, folks that we've always dreamed of working with, like David Zinn, who did our set design, to people who we've worked with a myriad of times, like Gigi and Justin, who did our lighting and sound, respectively. But the really unique kind of collaboration that had to come into play earlier than usual was a collaboration with the our wig designer, who in this case was Nikiya Mathis. And I had to bring her in early because the way the play was structured, I actually had to sit down and discuss with her, "How can we pull this off?" How can we show passage of time that three hours have passed by, but in reality, only 15 minutes have gone by? Is there even a world where the wigs can be able to manage or handle that kind of design? And so that was the first time in my life as a writer that I've actually had to collaborate with a designer in that capacity, and that early on in the process. And for anyone who sees the play, you will understand why that was so incredibly necessary. 

Jo Reed: Oh my God. Those onstage hair transformations are magical. And I'm sitting there, I'm close.What did I miss? How is this possible? This 12-hour procedure happened in 90 minutes. I don't get it. And she quite rightfully got a special Tony for her work.

Jocelyn Bioh:  . Correct. Yeah, we were thrilled by that. We were thrilled by that. The first time a hair and wig designer has ever received a special Tony. I mean, I think if anything, the design work that she did in this play makes a really good case for why that should be a category in the Tonys in the first place. So I was just thrilled by what she had done and what we were able to collaborate and figure out with the design, because it really does lean into the magic of it all. Our play is not some big splashy musical, it's a really kind of slice of life play that takes place in one shop over the course of 12 hours. And so when people go to see a Broadway show, they do kind of expect that little bit of magic that happens when Cinderella pulls a string and all of a sudden her dress turns from a raggedy apron and tattered dress to this beautiful ball gown. And we can create that kind of magic too, but we were able to do that with wigs and the incredible company members who also play multiple characters in the show, who also, I would say, have pretty lightning fast costume changes as well.

Jo Reed: And the costumes were also wonderful. Another Tony award for your designer. 

Jocelyn Bioh: Yes, yes. 

Jo Reed: Well, this is an ensemble piece. You have 10 actors playing 15-16 characters. So that's a lot of moving parts for you to keep straight and to create the nuanced characters that you do. Can you talk about sort of getting into the hearts of these women who we meet?

Jocelyn Bioh: Yeah, yes. Our company is an ensemble in full, of 10 actors and then there's three of them who play multiple characters. So in total, in the 90 minutes you're in there, you meet 17 different characters, which is kind of shocking. I've never written a play with that many people before. I think it was important too, to kind of just highlight the different people and different cast of characters you meet within a day at a shop. And honestly, like I could have written another 90 minutes to the play and still would not be able to capture all of the kind of archetypes of people that you meet. But inevitably, whenever you go into these spaces, and not just a hair braiding shop, it could be a hair salon where you just get your hair cut, or a barber shop, or a nail shop. There's inevitably always going to be that one customer who's like just having a really bad day and she kind of wants everyone to know it and feel it, too. There's inevitably going to be someone who has an impossible task or desire to look like someone. In our case, there's someone who comes in search of being able to walk out looking exactly like Beyonce in a particular video. You have people who are just like business women who are just coming in to get their hair done after a long work day. It just was important to me to kind of show the vast scope of people. And this is also a play that has all black actors as well, and so it was a really unique challenge to kind of show the diasporic diversity within the community as well. That it's not even just people from one particular country in Africa, that it's people from various countries all over West Africa, different people from different parts of America, Black America as well in the play. And that's a unique thing to be able to bring to any stage, but certainly to a Broadway stage, and now this Broadway production being able to tour all over the country.

Jo Reed: Why do you think it is that the more specific you are in telling a story, the more universal it becomes?

Jocelyn Bioh: Yeah, it's such a interesting conundrum that because I think there is beauty and unique connection in our big, vast, crazy, complicated, beautiful world. I think the specificity that I'm leaning into is also just a specificity of truth. And I think at the root of that is where actually the comedy lives, I think at the root of that truth is where the universality lives. I think we all share so many more experiences and have relationships with people in a very similar way than we don't, you know? There's so many people who come to see this play and they're like, "Oh my God, this woman reminded me of my aunt. This person reminded me of my sister. I saw myself in this one character." There's a really unique thing that happens when you double down in truth in that way. I mean, for me, the specificity, of course, is in culture and the unique space of this hair braiding shop, but there's also a rich universality. We all have had an experience of going somewhere to get a service done, whether it's getting our hair done, getting our nails done, getting our makeup done, you know, getting a haircut. We all have that experience, and in many ways, those spaces all operate and have that same perspective. They have those same kinds of people, they have those same kinds of personalities, and the same kind of vulnerability with each other exists. It's a very intimate thing to be able to walk into a space and ask somebody to please touch their hair and…

Jo Reed: Transform them. 

Jocelyn Bioh: Transform them, exactly, yeah.

Jo Reed: Yeah, it really is. It reminded me of when I was waitressing.

Jocelyn Bioh: Sure, yes.

Jo Reed: You know, and that same kind of camaraderie you have with your fellow workers of, "Okay, we have to get through the shift."

Jocelyn Bioh: Yes, yes, 100%.

Jo Reed: And it doesn't mean it's without friction.

Jocelyn Bioh: Yeah.

Jo Reed: But it also means you will be there to help.

Jocelyn Bioh: I know, a busy brunch day, you know, on a Saturday and a football team has come in, yeah, you know, that'll unite anybody.

Jo Reed: Yeah, exactly. 

Jocelyn Bioh: Yeah.

Jo Reed: I'd like to talk a little bit about Marie, Jaja's daughter and, you know, her wanting to write and wanting to go to college and being at odds with her mother, which really reflects just broader generational and cultural challenges in many, many immigrant families.

Jocelyn Bioh: I think she's representative of so many of us, I mean, I'm first generation, both my parents are from Ghana in West Africa. And, you know, I didn't know as a child that I would grow up to be an artist in this way. I knew I loved performing, I knew I loved dance, I knew I loved singing and theater and performing. I kind of slipped and tripped into playwriting, quite frankly. But I had no idea that a life in the arts was something that I really could pursue. Because I think, my parents, like many immigrants who came to this country at such a kind of like weirdly fraught time in America. My parents came in the late 60s, they came in 1968 and '69. And they want their children, they want them to have the successes and opportunities that they never had. And in many cases, those-- to them, they equate to having these professions that seem, you know, fail safe, doctor, lawyer, engineer,  professor, things that seem to like always put you in a particular financial bracket and that you'll be set for life. And I feel like Marie is kind of representative of that. She's part of the promise of America, the idea that you can come here and if you work really hard, or if you're born here, if you work really hard, you can be anything you want to be and be successful at that thing. But that's really at odds with many immigrant families and their mentality about, success, what is successful. And so I wanted to be able to put that kind of perspective and  in many cases, frustration that I had with my parents, that we just really couldn't get on the same page about that. I think it took them a really long time for them to be convinced that what I was doing was going to result in some sort of success and stability for me, but I understand why they had that concern. And so it was important, I think, to put that kind of nuanced perspective on stage. We just really never seen it before.

Jo Reed: And this becomes more complicated because Marie is also undocumented coming here when she was four. So there's not much hope for college, because how could she ever afford it or get financial aid or any of the identification she needs to get into college?

Jocelyn Bioh: Right. I think that's what makes the story and why immigration reform is such a huge topic and why we need to kind of address it. At the time that I wrote the play, the DREAM Act is something that, President Obama at the time of his presidency had introduced and put into play via executive order. And at the heart and at the center of all of these were these children who came here when they were very young and didn't have any choice. They were children and in many cases didn't even discover that they weren't citizens until they were old enough to apply for college or get a driver's license or something.. Sometimes at the heart of it are these innocent children who for all intents and purposes are American, in their eyes, and have no connection or, you know, cultural connection to their country of origin. And that's a part of the complication of this story too. And I think it was important to really highlight that it's not just one version of immigration that we're talking about. It's several different versions that are swirling around this really giant umbrella of immigration reform.

Jo Reed: Well, as we just said, immigration policies play a role in the backdrop of Jaja's African Hair Braiding, a play that is often very, very funny.

Jocelyn Bioh: Yes.

Jo Reed: And I really would love you to talk about why you chose to address these issues through that lens of humor.

Jocelyn Bioh: Well, I don't know any group of people, particularly I would say marginalized group of people, who have not been able to lean on humor or some sort of joy or comedy to be able to get through the hardships of their life. That is certainly true of everyone in the Black community and the diasporic community. And it's also just, plainly, the center of my world as a writer. I've tried to write serious dark dramas and then I would do a reading of the play and people would be laughing one page in and I'm like, "Okay, so I guess it's just a dark comedy." Like I can't help-- my voice naturally lives in a comedic space. But I also find that comedy is really powerful, that spoonful of sugar mentality is real. You're able to really get so many things across to people, there's so many ways that people can hear things when they hear it in a way that feels enjoyable and funny and they can laugh in recognition of whatever that truth is. And in this case, with Jaja's, you know, your folks I think are coming in to feel and have the experience of a really fun, funny play set in a hair braiding shop, but also at the heart of it, we're talking about the humans behind the immigration policies of America. It's just a powerful way for people to be able to connect with a story. And I read a quote when I was in graduate school that has remained with me, and I think has been the kind of the thesis statement of my work as a writer, which is just comedy is just a funny way of being serious. And I think being able to lean into that every single time, knowing that is kind of like the goal. My goal is still something that is tackling something serious, but the way in which I get there, the method in which I get there is going to be a comedic way, has proved to be really powerful. And I think the message of the play really lands on people in the end, because they just didn't see it coming.

Jo Reed: I think that's right. I think your plays have humor and they have joy and they have struggle, because I think there's this false dichotomy that you focus on struggle or if you're focusing on humor, you're missing the part where people struggle. I mean, you know, life, it's not just struggle and it's not just joy. It’s this combination and I think that's why your work is so compelling, because it is truthful and shows both.

Jocelyn Bioh: Yeah, thank you. Thank you. Once I feel like I'm not doing either of those things as a writer, is when I'll just go ahead and put the pen down. or the proverbial pen. I'll close the laptop because I haven't written anything by hand in a very long time.

Jo Reed: The symbolic pen.

Jocelyn Bioh: Yeah, exactly.

Jo Reed: Well, you mentioned you began your theater career as an actress and you worked with Brendan Jacob Jenkins a couple of times. And you were on Broadway as an actor in The Curious Incident Of The Dog In The Night. So what made you decide to commit to writing?

Jocelyn Bioh: Well, I went to… it's a funny story. I went to college, I went to Ohio State University in Columbus, Ohio and I was an English and theater major. And the theater program at the time was a very traditional program where they only cast their plays to type, which meant that if it wasn't specifically specified that someone was a person of color in that play, they defaulted to it being cast with white actors. And so that severely limited many of the roles that I could be up for, and so I took a playwriting course to compensate for those credits. It was what I said earlier, that I tripped and stumbled into playwriting is truly that. And so I took a playwriting course and I found that I really enjoyed it, and I signed up to take the second version of that course. And the professor at that time told me that she thought I had a really good ear for dialogue and that I should maybe think about continuing to pursue a career as a writer, which I had honestly never thought about. And I was like, "Okay, well, yeah, maybe." And so when I was applying to graduate schools, I did the funny thing of applying to some as a writer, and I applied to some as an actor. And when I got into Columbia's MFA playwriting program, I just thought I would roll the dice and that I could learn on my feet what it was like to be an actor. If I got cast in plays, I could just like have that experience in that way. But if I really wanted to understand the mechanics of being a playwright and what the base of all of that was, I thought I should give myself a shot at really taking some years to study that. And so that's what I did. And by the time I graduated from school, unfortunately the country was in a major recession and even I would say my work as a writer wasn't strong. I had learned what it was to write a play, but I hadn't yet found my voice as a playwright. And so I threw myself back into performing and acting and just wrote some plays on the side. And so I was still doing both in tandem, it's only that my acting career in New York started to gain more momentum before my work as a writer did. And so when I was in Curious Incident on Broadway, which was like a goal I had been working for so long to be an actor in a Broadway show, I had really made a promise to myself that when I was done with the show that I would commit more of my time to my writing. And it was actually in the dressing room of Curious Incident where I started writing the play that ended up being my breakout hit, if you will, which School Girls; Or, The African Mean Girls Play .  So yeah, it was like, I never let go of either. It's just my acting career happened in one way, and my playwriting career happened in a different way.

Jo Reed: You mentioned Issa Rae and Lucille Ball, of all people, as inspirations for you creating your own opportunities. Talk about that, and how their influence helped shape your own vision for your career as a playwright and as an actor.

Jocelyn Bioh: I mean, I think those two women, I've mentioned them before in other interviews and them being my role models. It's so interesting because I think like, obviously Lucille Ball was of another time, of an era where women were not given the opportunities that she really created for herself, having her own show, producing her own show, starring in her own show, creating her own production company where she could produce other work, vehicles for other people. It was just kind of fascinating. From a business perspective, it was just a really iconic thing that she did as a woman in a time where no one was able to do things like that. And then on top of that, she was just like a brilliant, genius comedian. I used to sit in front of my TV and they used to play these reruns of I Love Lucy on Nickelodeon at night when I was a kid. It was Nick at Night. And I would just watch hours and hours, I would record episodes of I Love Lucy and I would just watch her and study her. I just thought she was such a comedic genius. And there was actually so much storytelling in her physicality, in her physical comedy that I wanted to emulate so much. And I never really realized that… in my head, I was just watching it and enjoying it, and as an adult now, I'm realizing that it was my education in theater. It was my education in comedy, in storytelling, in acting. And flash forward all these years later, you have someone like Issa Rae who's ostensibly doing the same thing. A thing that was carved out by Lucille Ball. She has her own production company, she's writing, producing, and starring in her own show, but she's a Black woman. And not just a Black woman, a first generation African woman, able to do that. Literally the same thing that I am, a person who has an immigrant parent who came to this country, hoping to have a better life for their children, and she's been able to do that, and do it so successfully and in such a smart, unique way. But it's all wholly originally her and her voice. And both of them, I think, just hold the keys to what I hope many people in the industry who are like myself, who are not just writers, who are also actors, who also desire to be producers of their own work. And who knows, I have never thought about owning my own company, but now I'm seeing these women who've been able to do it. And it's just important that we have those role models in every generation. And I feel really blessed that I was able to really understand what Lucille Ball did in her generation, and that I'm living in a time where I can watch in real time, follow, admire, and hopefully emulate for myself what Issa Rae is doing now.

Jo Reed: You dedicated Jaja to the hair braiding ladies you admired growing up. How did that personal connection to these women influence both the authenticity, but the real emotional depth that's in that story?

Jocelyn Bioh: I think I've had such unique experiences with these women. I've heard them talk about their relationships and their struggles in their marriage, when I was eight years old and probably shouldn't have been listening in but I was sitting there getting my hair braided and just happened to be that wandering ear. I've helped one of my hair braiding ladies many years ago, fill out her citizenship application. She was nervous that she would mess up some of the things that she had to fill out and so, you know, asked me to guide her through it as she was braiding my hair. When I went to go get my hair braided for my wedding a couple of years ago, it was like five days out from my wedding and I was just having, as most brides do, just like a breakdown of like everything. And I just showed up at the hair braiding shop crying, and my hair braiding lady was my mom in that moment. In those six hours that she was doing my hair, she became my mother and really nurtured me and doted on me, and reassured me that everything was going to be okay. Those are such unique experiences that I've had with women who for all intents and purposes are relative strangers to me. They're not people that I know or speak to every day, they're not people that I call and have catch-ups with or sit down and have lunch with. They're people that I call to get my hair braided, and yet we share these vulnerable moments, these intimate moments, these moments of care. And those experiences have happened over and over and over. And I don't think any of them ever imagined that they'd see some facet of themselves on a Broadway stage. I never even imagined it. And so there was no question to me that I would dedicate the play to them.

Jo Reed: Well, the play has resonated with such a diversity of audiences. What has it meant to you to see your personal stories and experiences reach such a wide and appreciative audience,  to be heard and embraced in that way?

Jocelyn Bioh: I think it's the goal of every playwright. At the end of the day, you sit and write a play, a play is meant to be performed and seen and shared with an audience of people. Otherwise it would just be a book, you know? And so it's every playwright's dream that their play is done and produced, shared with audiences and hopefully embraced and accepted. For me, it just means that I'm doing the right thing, that I'm on the right path, that the stories that I'm writing are connecting with people, are inviting them in, are wanting them to kind of come back and re-engage, bring friends. That's the beauty of theater, that's how we're going to keep growing this industry that, you know, I feel like every few months, honestly, people keep threatening that it's dying, it's dying, the theater is dying. And it's not, it actually can thrive when you just like write things that speak to massive, huge swaths of people. Even if there's somebody who's never even been in a hair braiding shop, there's something about the play, about the characters, about the world that is still universal and inviting. And it just means a lot to me that there were people who were open to seeing the play and it didn't disappoint. It didn't let them down.

Jo Reed:   Not at all. And I think that is a great place to leave it, Jocelyn. Thank you.

Jocelyn Bioh: Thank you.

Jo Reed: Thank you for this play. Thank you for all your work, I am so glad to be going to theater while you're writing it.

Jocelyn Bioh: Oh, thank you so much. It means so much. Thank you.

Jo Reed: You're welcome. That was playwright Jocelyn Bioh—her play Jaja’s African Hair Braiding is running at Arena Stage until October 13. It moves to Berkeley Repertory Theatre November 8, and Chicago Shakespeare Theater January 14, 2025.  You’ll find links in our show notes. You’ve been listening to Art Works produced at the National Endowment for the Arts. follow us wherever you get your podcasts and leave us a rating on Apple, it helps other people who love the arts to find us. For the National Endowment for the Arts, I’m Josephine Reed. Thanks for listening.

Jocelyn Bioh: I don't know any group of people, particularly I would say marginalized group of people, who have not been able to lean on humor or some sort of joy or comedy to be able to get through the hardships of their life. That is certainly true of everyone in the black community and the diasporic community. And it's also just, plainly, the center of my world as a writer. -- my voice naturally lives in a comedic space, but I also find that comedy is really powerful. You're able to really get so many things across to people, there's so many ways that people can hear things when they hear it in a way that feels enjoyable and funny and they can laugh in recognition of whatever that truth is. And in this case, with “Jaja's (African Hair Braiding”), you know, your folks I think are coming in to have the experience of a really fun, funny play set in a hair braiding shop, but also at the heart of it, we're talking about the humans behind the immigration policies of America. It's just a powerful way for people to be able to connect with a story. And I read a quote when I was in graduate school that has remained with me, and I think has been the kind of the thesis statement of my work as a writer, which is just comedy is just a funny way of being serious.

Music Credits: “NY” composed and performed by Kosta T, from the cd Soul Sand. Used courtesy of the Free Music Archive.

Jo Reed:  From the National Endowment for the Arts, this is Art Works, I’m Josephine Reed….

Meg Medina:  I wouldn't have said, "Yes, I'm only going to write for young people," when I first started, but my whole life sort of pointed me that way, right? I had been teaching. I liked children's books. I liked reading. I really, really enjoy the company of young people. I was a mom. Like there were all these experiences that were pointing me in that way, so when I finally sat down to write, that's what emerged. This alchemy of family story and culture and young people.

Jo Reed:  That was author and the Library of Congress’s 2023-24 National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature, Meg Medina, the first Latina to serve as Ambassador in the program’s history. In honor of Hispanic Heritage Month we’re revisiting this 2023 interview.

During her two-year term, Meg Medina looks to engage readers across the country to embrace the joy of reading and encourage connection among families, classrooms, libraries and communities by talking about books that both reflect the readers’ lived experiences and those that open them up to new perspectives. 

This diversity of perspective is something Meg has been advocating her entire writing life. Herself a Cuban-American, Meg’s protagonists are strong, if flawed, Latina girls. Her books examine how culture and identity intersect through the eyes of young people even as they explore problems familiar to any kid navigating home and school. For example, her award-winning YA novel “Yacqui Delgado Wants to Kick Your Ass” looks at bullying, while “Burn Baby Burn” takes place in NYC in 1977 the summer serial killer Son of Sam terrorized the city, Her middle-grade novel the 2019  Newbery Medal Awardee “Merci Suárez Changes Gears,” is  the first of three books in a trilogy about the Suárez family and the illness of a beloved grandparent while her recent award-winning picture book,  “Evelyn Del Rey Is Moving Away,” examines change in the life of a young child. Whatever the target age, Meg’s books are alive with vibrant characters and have a laser-like focus on authenticity and truth.

When I spoke with Meg Medina I began by asking her what she thought we should know about her as Library of Congress’s 2023-24 National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature.

Meg Medina:  I am a writer who writes picture book, middle grade, and young adult fiction. I float pretty easily from one age group to the other. My background is Cuban-American. My parents arrived in this country in the early '60s and the rest of my family throughout the '60s and '70s. But I grew up here. I was born here. So, I was the first North American born in my family, which was a strange position to be in. I was sort of the translator general for the family. Not only literally, translating English in forms and things like that, but just culturally what this country was and how things were here and what was okay in childhood here. What were the books? What were the styles? All the things. What were the normal activities of an American kid? And so, I feel like that experience of growing up in an immigrant household where money was tight. When language was both a joy, an expansion, being able to speak Spanish and English. But also, an obstacle sometimes. All of those experiences I think I'm going to be able to bring with me into the Ambassadorship for the better. I think we have so many different kinds of people in this country and so many languages spoken and I just think it'll be helpful to be able to connect with them.

Jo Reed:  Where were you raised?

Meg Medina:  I was born in Alexandria, but I wasn't there, interestingly. Just before my birth, my parents' marriage dissolved. And so, my mother found herself in this country with no relatives. You know, everybody was still back in Cuba, but she did have a cousin, Minna Hernandez who lived in Queens New York, and Minna got on the Greyhound Bus and came to Alexandria. She taught my mother this concept called the garage sale <laughs>, this American concept. They sold everything that wasn't nailed down and then my mom brought us to New York, the biggest city in the world, right? And when I think back on what that must have been for her. But she raised us. She raised my sister and me in New York in the '60s and '70s, which was a hot time in New York City. <laughs> And that must have really been, I think bewildering for her. Then I spent some time in Massachusetts. I lived in Florida for ten years where my own three children were born. And interestingly, because life is funny that way, through job transfers and so on of my husband, we ended up back in Virginia. And today I live in Richmond.

Jo Reed:  Well, New York certainly is a multicultural hub with a large Latino population

Meg Medina:  Yeah, and certainly in Queens. Queens is, I think, the most diverse county in the U.S., for sure one of the most diverse places. When I was growing up in Flushing, Queens, it was a really interesting mix of people. There were, the older sort of European immigrants from Greece, from Italy, Ireland-- that group. But there was a big group of Cubans who had just arrived, Columbians, Indian families were growing and of course, it was the beginning of the establishment of the Asian population in Flushing, which is now heavily Korean. So, it was everybody. It was a wonderful way I think to grow up. It offered just the daily experience of living and learning with people who are like you in lots of ways, have families and jobs and concerns and all of those things, and also really different. I'm really grateful for that experience.

Jo Reed:  Yeah, I grew up in New York, too, and when I think back now-- just in my building, how many first-generation people were in that building, but from literally all over the world. And to me it was just natural, like breathing out and breathing in. But now I look back and I realize how lucky I was.

Meg Medina:  Yeah, I think so, too. It was just a natural way to learn how to be and share space with people and be respectful and learn from each other, you know, and love each other and see each other as part of the community.  

Jo Reed:  Where was reading in your life when you were young?

Meg Medina:  Well, you know, it was in lots of places. Interestingly, so there were not a lot of Latino characters, obviously in the books that I was reading in the '60s and '70s, or at least not in the books that were being introduced to me. I was being given the books that many kids in the early '70s were being given, the Judy Blume, Witch of Blackbird Pond, My Side of the Mount-- all of those sorts of old classics. I read all of those and I enjoyed them. I liked reading. Mostly I liked story. And so, I didn't need to have the character look exactly like me to enjoy the escape that reading provided me. My family, though, were real storytellers, just naturally. They, I think, processed their trauma through story. So, they process like their leaving their country and their family. I was filled with stories of what Cuba looked like, and who their neighbors had been and the time that So-and-So, did this. It was just a constant storytelling in the family. And for all kinds of purposes--sometimes to advise me in life. "I knew a person who did this once and look what happened to them," and I'd get this whole story. They used story in lots of different ways. So, I think I just sort of naturally developed an ear for that kind of drama and the interest in how people behave. And I find that in my work all the time. You know, when I'm writing, I'm really fascinated, not exactly by like the events of the novel, but by how the characters respond to those events. And so, I just feel like that I could trace right to storytelling. And then in terms of reading, you know, my mother did the best that she could. I mean, she had been a teacher in Cuba, so she knew the value having knowledge. My mother was wise enough to get me a library card, to get us the Encyclopedia, to let us buy books through the Troll Book form, those little order forms that used to come through school Even though money was really, really tight. I think she really liked to see us figuring out language, being able to read in English. Being able to know things. That mattered to her.

Jo Reed:  Well, you taught for ten years before you turned to writing.  

Meg Medina:  I did.

Jo Reed:  Was it a vocation for you, sort of inspired by your mother? How did you come to teaching?

Meg Medina:  <laughs> That's really funny. I came to teaching kicking and screaming. Okay, here's how-- here's the true story of how Meg Medina became a teacher. I did not want to be a teacher because my mother wanted me to be a teacher. My mother wanted me to either be a teacher or inexplicably a translator at the U.N. I don't know why she thought that <laughs> could be possible, but okay. Or the other thing she also often mentioned was the phone company. The phone company was a good place. And my mother really wanted me to have health benefits, and she wanted me to have security, and she didn't want me to worry as she did here as a factory worker about those kinds of concerns. Like how you were going to feed yourself and house yourself. And those seemed like really practical jobs. So, I graduated college and I went to work at Simon and Schuster where I was the worst Editorial Assistant probably ever. I was not good at it. And you know, then as now, life in Manhattan is expensive and having a wardrobe for those kinds of jobs and getting yourself there, all of that cost money. And I was from what was then, especially, another universe in the Boroughs, right, in Queens. I just was not suited to that job. And I decided to leave it, because believe it or not, I could make more money as a public schoolteacher, and New York City was having a teaching shortage. So, all you had to do was promise to take 15 credits and then they'd give you control over the fate of 36 poor little kids in your class, right? So, they sent me to P.S. 19, which is the largest elementary school in Queens, or it was at the time. And my students came mostly from the Dominican Republic, very recently arrived. Some like within days. The beginning was pretty rough, I go to say, right, because they have a teacher who does not know things like, "What is a lesson plan?" and other basics that are important. But here's what happened in very short order. This job that I took just sort of as a placeholder while I really figured out what I quote/unquote "really" wanted to do, it just took me because the kids were adorable. And I felt really connected to their families, like their experiences were very familiar to me--their neighborhood, all of it. And I just fell in love with them, with children's literature, and what I most remember about that year is the last day of school when I sat at my desk and I just cried, because I was going to miss them and I was worried that their next year's teacher wouldn't maybe love them or respect them in the way that I felt that I did, or I don't know, I just was so attached to them. And then I just stayed teaching. I got very curious. I went to the Louis Armstrong School and then I taught at an Arts Magnet School in Florida. And I just became enamored with literature and writing and children's books and young people of every age. They kept me laughing, they were maddening sometimes-- especially the teenagers later, they were asking really hard bold questions. And I loved all of that, all of that, very unexpectedly.

Jo Reed:  You made the next transition and you were 40 when you decided to make the leap and begin to write.

Meg Medina:  Yeah.

Jo Reed:  What motivated that?

Meg Medina:  So I had been teaching writing for a long time. But I wasn't doing much of it myself. In other words I was teaching other people how to give voice to the things they were curious about, but I was not completely fulfilled in teaching. I loved it. I loved my students, but there was something still missing. And the missing thing was that I really wanted to be writing. So, I started small. I started writing at little newspapers and I wrote I can't tell you how many articles for like $50 an article. It was just a ridiculous starvation kind of wages. But I built up my clips. I built up a thick skin to be able to edit. Like when an editor says, "Yeah, the lead is terrible, you got to rewrite it. Ten minutes," <laughs> you know, you can't get darling about your words then, right? You have to be able to separate and do the thing,

So, I started that way, but mostly, when I turned to children's writing it was more dramatic. I had moved to Virginia with Javier and we had three kids. And I was in a new city and my friendships were largely with the mothers and fathers of my children's friends. And I was living in a suburb and there were very few Latinos and I felt disconnected from the arts community, and I felt just lonely. I felt really spectacularly lonely. And so, at 40 I knew someone through a board that we sat on, who said to me one day, "Have you ever thought of like thinking of a vision statement for yourself? Like what do you want your life to look like as a writer and an artist, if this is what you say that you're missing?" And so, I did it. I came home. It felt ridiculous, I have to say, it felt ridiculous.  But I did it, I wrote it, and I kept that piece of paper. The first thing is that I got very weepy when I finished reading it, because I thought, "This is ridiculous. Who am I to wish these things? This is just silly. It felt like I was writing fantasy. What's interesting is I wrote that document in like 2003 maybe. I don't remember the exact year but almost everything that I wrote came true. I don't know how to explain it, but I share that story with writers a lot, because sometimes putting it down, like getting it out of your imagination and putting it down on a piece of paper like it's a tangible thing that you can look at, helps raise your sights. It helps you sometimes be more accountable. Like, “this is what I want, so what's one thing I could do today to move me closer to that?" And that's how I just started moving in that way and one thing led to the other and here I am. It's not like you write the wildest wish and it comes true. It's not like a genie in a bottle. But taking yourself seriously.

Jo Reed:  It can focus the mind.

Meg Medina:  Yeah, I think so. I think so. So, I think it's an important exercise to do with writers, with kids, with everyone as we're growing up, "What is that you want?"

Jo Reed:  And was it always books for young people?

Meg Medina:  No, but it's hard to say. I wouldn't have said, "Yes, I'm only going to write for young people," when I first started, but my whole life sort of pointed me that way, right? I had been teaching. I liked children's books. I liked reading. I really, really enjoy the company of young people. I was a mom. Like there were all these experiences that were pointing me in that way, so when I finally sat down to write, that's what emerged. This alchemy of family story and culture and young people. It ended up being like a clava, which is the rhythm in Cuban music that 3/2 rhythm, or 2/3 rhythm that is sort of the underpinning of Cuban music, so like you can't-- that just never changes in a composition, right, no matter what you put on it. And I feel like that. That ended up being my clava--growing up and culture and family.

Jo Reed:  Well, your books are very, very different from picture books, to middle grade, to YA. And they're different characters encountering different challenges and different joys. But there are commonalities and you mentioned family is certainly one of them. What are some of the others?

Meg Medina:  Oh, I think girls finding their voice, for sure. I think love, especially within families. Because when we talk about families, the very same people who love us so very much, sometimes really hurt us. And looking at that little sliver feels important to me. I think I am willing to walk into grief and hard things with children. And bring them through the experience like honestly and safely. Whether that's the death of someone, whether it's a violent family secret, whether it's bullying. But those really hard dark spaces that kids go through growing up, I like to feel that they don't have to do it completely alone. They can sort of experience it, practice it, read about it, think about it, with one of my books as their companion.

Jo Reed:  You know, while the experiences your characters encounter are culturally very, very specific, they are familiar to first-generation kids from anywhere. As you mentioned translating not just English, but habits, culture, technology to parents and sending money back home. This is first-generation. That's what happens.

Meg Medina:  Yeah, yeah, for sure. That's one of the joys. I love that. I love when that happens. I love when someone who has nothing to do with me-- like I had a young woman in Wisconsin, she came to me and she said, "Oh, my gosh. “Yaqui Delgado Wants to Kick Your Ass”, that's my story!" This is not your story <laughs> is what I was thinking about. I was like, "This is so different. This is a Queens Latina girl," you know? But for her this issue of being bullied, of being targeted, being alienated at school all of that really resonated with her. And certainly, that has happened with “Burn, Baby, Burn” and with others. It's really rewarding. I mean, so being able to be both specific and universal at the same time. And that comes, I think, truly from just being very honest to the experience. And that's the experience I have when I read other people's books outside of my experience of my own cultural experience. I'm drinking in all that they are opening up to me. I'm drinking in the culture, the language, the customs, all of it. And I'm also feeling connected and seen in those moments where those events, those people, an attitude that a character has resonates with someone I know or something I've seen. And that I think is at the heart of why children's literature can be so powerful. Especially when we create really robust inclusive collections,  in classroom libraries and school libraries and neighborhood public libraries. Because it knits us together. It allows us to do both things. To celebrate all that we are and all the cultures that make us up as a country, and who we are as people. Like just as human beings. The commonality. And I think that is really vital especially now.

Jo Reed:  Well, it's kind of the alchemy of literature, that strange alchemy that happens when the more specific you are, somehow the more universal it becomes.

Meg Medina:  Mm hm, for sure. I believe that's true. And making sure that the cultural details are exactly right. There's something about that that is deeply respectful and necessary in literature. Especially literature for children. We want to make sure that the books that we're offering them are accurate, so that they have true understanding of who their neighbors are, who they are themselves. You know, just getting it right really matters. And I think just as you say the specific and the universal is the flipside of the same coin.

Jo Reed: How do you start any book? Do you start with an idea, with a character?

Meg Medina: Usually the character and the age, that frames the concern. So, if I’m going to write a story, a kid’s in the hospital. It’s a very different experience if you’re six versus if you’re seventeen, right? So, the age really helps frame the voice for me and that’s the first thing I’m really looking for, the character’s voice, their personality, what they sound like, and what their initial problem is. And when I say initial, it’s not just the first thing that comes up, but like the problem the character is willing to tell me at first when I just know them minimally. It’s like going to a dinner party with people, right? You get “Oh, hi, this is so and so. They do this for a living.” You’re knowing these very superficial things-- they’re important details, but they’re not really the story of that person. As I write the book, as I’m exploring this so-called problem that they have, usually they crack open and we get to the deeper issue. Somewhere, I don't know, around page 50 or 60, I have a much deeper idea of what the character is really up against and then we start mining, for sure. So, I always start that way. Although, I say that and I’m working on a fantasy right now and I’m just finishing up the manuscript and I started with setting on that one, which I’ve never really done. I started with a sense of place and who is in that place and then I pulled the character from there, but the place was very, very important. It takes place in the abyss in the ocean.

Jo Reed:  Wow… How much do you look at your own background, your own girlhood when you write? If not for the experiences themselves but for the kind of questions you were asking yourself.

Meg Medina:  Oh, gosh, 100 percent of the time. Really.  People ask, "Why you write for children?" And the truth is you're actually not, right? You're writing for who you were at a particular age. I know that sounds so narcissistic, but that's what actually ends up happening, at least in my process. When I'm writing someone 15/16, I inhabit who I was at that age and the things that hurt me at that age, and the outrage I felt at different things at that age--all of it. I try to become that person again. And to do that, I have to go back through memory. I have to unpack things that in some cases I don't want to think about at all and really think about them and lay them bare, and decide like what part of that still resonates now and why have I remembered it for 30 years or 40, you know, whatever? And come to some revelation that I can provide with the character in the story. So, I feel like with Yaqui Delgado for sure, I was bullied in exactly the way that you see in Chapter 1. It happened to me a little earlier in junior high school, but that was essentially what happened. “Burn, Baby, Burn”, I was 14 the summer that Son of Sam was murdering girls in Queens, Brooklyn, Bronx, and so on, all the boroughs-- you don’t live through that without remembering that and certainly, I knew family troubles and depression and things like that in the house, which are also themes in “Burn Baby Burn,” all of it. I pull from my life shamelessly and I use my books not only to create entertainment and artful pieces, but really to unpack and understand all that has happened.

Jo Reed: It’s interesting because when I read young people’s literature, my emotions are much more on the surface. I’m a pretty engaged reader in general, but with young people’s literature, I laugh more. I cry more. I know at a certain point, I found myself saying “Oh, Mercy, don’t do that. Just don’t do that.”

Meg Medina: Me too. I do the same thing because I don’t plot these books. I write them very intuitively. So, I sit down and I just follow Mercy through the story. Like, I have vague ideas of what might happen just because the age and the setup, but generally, I’m very surprised and I can’t tell you how many times I said that to Merci, like “Oh, come on. You can do better. Come on, Merci. Tell the truth. Step up.” I had all kinds of motherly advice. But that’s the thing. The mother, the writer, that person has to step away. When you really give yourself to writing a book for kids and you’re writing it this way, where the character is sort of leading you, you have to leave all of the adult concerns far away. They’ll have a place, but it’s not in the drafting of the book.

Jo Reed:   Let’s talk about Merci Suárez and the wonderful Suarez family. How did the Merci Suárez series come to be

Meg Medina: I started that as a short story. It’s in an anthology called “Flying Lessons and Other Stories.” Ellen Oh from We Need Diverse Books invited me into that anthology. It was ten authors from different backgrounds and we needed to just write a story that featured a character who was from a  traditionally marginalized background and so, I said “Sure. I’m going to write a Latina character.” So what? I would say after you say yes and you sign the contract, it’s like “Okay, but she doesn’t sit around just thinking about her Latinidad, right?  So, I wanted to look at this notion of what parents are willing to do for their kids to move them ahead and sometimes they have to swallow some really bitter pills. So, in the story “Sol Painting, Inc.,” Merci is about to start school at this private school where here genius brother is also attending and her father has traded his painting skills-- he’s going to paint the school gym in exchange for some tuition breaks and it was a look at what it’s like to be a scholarship kid, but more what it’s like to be invisible, one of these careers that people think of as invisible, yard workers, painters, like they call you “The Paint Guy,” “The Yard Guy,” like you’re nameless. And her father is that and yet, she’s going to be a student at this fancy school and the push and pull of that, the shame, the pride, the fury, all of the feelings that go into that, into finding yourself being asked to be grateful for this wonderful opportunity that is being given to you and also frustrated and having lots of feelings about what it’s like to move in those circles. So, I wrote the story. I loved the story and then the book did really well. It’s in a lot of school libraries and I just couldn’t stop thinking about Merci and both the editor, Phoebe Yeh, who edited that anthology, and my editor at Candlewick said the same thing, “Merci is just too big for a story. I think you want to write a novel for her,” and I did and that was “Merci Suarez Changes Gears,” and that was her in the sixth grade and then I kept thinking of the metamorphosis that happens from sixth to eighth grade and I said “I’ll just keep going.” Sixth grade, seventh grade, and eighth grade and then it gives me a chance to really have her deal completely with her grandfather and middle school and all of the things that are bananas about middle school.

Jo Reed: It is the most wonderful series. I read the first book when it came out and I was just so entranced and jumped on each one as soon as they came out. So, thank you for doing it.

Meg Medina: You’re welcome. I’m proud of that series.  I’m glad like that I’m leaving it behind. It was hard to say goodbye to the Suárez family because I want to be adopted by them, but I feel like I told the whole story and I don't know, I hope kids continue to find the Suárez’s in the years to come.

Jo Reed: I’m sure they will. Now, you’re the National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature. So, tell me about your ideas for this role.

Meg Medina: Wow. Yeah. It’s big. So, my idea is that I want to rescue reading from this sort of notion as something that belongs only to schools, that we test. Just think about how we talk about reading to kids. “If you don’t read by this age, this is going to happen or that’s going to happen. Your ears will fall off,” like all these really dire warnings that may in fact be true if we’re looking at the data and so on, but it’s the reading joy that seems to come last. And I really want to rescue reading and reconnect kids to reading in a different way and thinking about reading and talking about reading in a different way. So they ask you to design a framework for how you’re going to move throughout your two years and my framework is called “¡Cuéntame! Let’s Talk Books!” So, “¡Cuéntame!” is this phrase that Spanish speakers use, like when we don’t see each other for a while and it’s like “Hey, what’s up?” We say “¡Cuéntame! What’s up?” Like, “Tell me what’s going on.” So, mine is “¡Cuéntame! Let’s Talk Books.” When I visit schools, they’ll have a chance to ask me questions about my work and all of that, but mostly, I’ll be modeling for them, I’ll be book talking for them the books that I am reading and loving and want to shout about. So, when we talk about books that we love to somebody else, we’re not only talking about the book. We’re also talking about ourselves. We’re sharing  what excites us, what we love, what we think is interesting and so, that, I think, is where connection is. Like, if I come to you and say “Oh, my gosh Jo, you’ve got to read this book because...” and I’m super excited, I’m sharing myself with you in a very important way. So, I’ll be book talking to them and I’m hoping that they’re going to book talk to me the books that they’re reading. I’m already getting suggestions in the mail from kids. I’ve been given lots of suggestions for manga and graphic novels, which I’m devouring as quickly as I can.

 Another part of my platform of ¡Cuéntame! is connecting families with the public library, especially now. I am a huge library fan and a huge fan of librarians and they’re just not the shushing places of yesteryear. They are vibrant places that have something for everybody in the family. And so, creating a push for library cards and highlighting really great programs that are going on in different libraries, I’m really just encouraging kids to think of the library as a place to go to gather books to make it part of their life. And then the last part I’m really interested in is just creating sort of an audio archive at the Library of Congress of new authors creating work now. I think what happens sometimes is we rely on the voices and the names that we’ve known or that our parents read when they were little, like the biggies and they’re great and they endure for a reason. But, my feeling is we’re in a golden age of children’s literature. There are just so many incredible authors coming to the table and writing from all sorts of experiences and so, I want to have a place where the kids can just come and click and hear the author read us what they think is their best minute or two of writing, tell us why they think that is a great minute or two and also share with us something they believe is true about children and reading. I think when we hear an author’s voice, when we hear their work in their voice, it's thrilling. So, those are right now the three main prompts of ¡Cuéntame! Now, as every good teacher will tell you, you plan. You put it into effect and then you just sort of see what’s sticking, what’s working, and you make adjustments. So, I think as the ambassadorship moves forward, there will be adjustments. But right now, that’s what I’m cooking.

Jo Reed: As you look ahead to the next two years, what are you most looking forward to?

Meg Medina: What am I most looking forward to? I think I am most looking forward to connecting with kids. Like, being able to spend two years really going into schools that have applied to have me come, who have collaborated with their public library, who have given like deep, deep thought to our time together and then being there in community with that whole school community, their moms and dads, their teachers, their school librarians, their neighborhood librarians, like helping them knit themselves together around books and being part of that. That, to me, feels really, really exciting.

Jo Reed: Okay. That is a good place to leave it. Meg Medina, thank you and congratulations and I’m thrilled.

Meg Medina: Thank you so much, Jo. I really appreciate the time.

Jo Reed: You’re welcome.  That was my 2023 interview with author and Library of Congress’s 2023-24 National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature, Meg Medina. She’s the author of many books including the Merci Suarez trilogy and award-winning picture book,  “Evelyn Del Rey Is Moving Away,” You’ve been listening to Art Works produced at the National Endowment for the Arts. We’d love to know your thoughts—email us at artworkspod@arts.gov. And follow us wherever you get your podcasts and leave us a rating on Apple, it helps other people who love the arts to find us. For the National Endowment for the Arts, I’m Josephine Reed. Thanks for listening.

Meg Medina: My family were real storytellers, just naturally. They, I think, processed their trauma through story. So, they process like their leaving their country and their family. I was filled with stories of what Cuba looked like, and who their neighbors had been and the time that So-and-So, did this. It was just a constant storytelling in the family. And for all kinds of purposes--sometimes to advise me in life. "I knew a person who did this once and look what happened to them," and I'd get this whole story. They used story in lots of different ways. So, I think I just sort of naturally developed an ear for that kind of drama and the interest in how people behave. And I find that in my work all the time. You know, when I'm writing, I'm really fascinated, not exactly by like the events of the novel, but by how the characters respond to those events. And so, I just feel like that I could trace right to storytelling.