Interviews
Question: Imani All Mine is set in Buffalo, New York. Is it a continuation of All-Bright Court?
Connie Porter: No, it isn't. Imani All Mine is a contemporary novel about Tasha Dawson, a teen mother struggling to raise her daughter, Imani. Tasha is living on the east side of Buffalo with her mother and Imani. Fifteen when the novel opens, Tasha has been told by Mama that she must assume total responsibility for raising Imani. Tasha does the best she can with Imani while still trying to stay on track to earn a regent's diploma and attempting to make sense of her neighborhood, which has changed dramatically since she was a young girl.
Some of the young men have begun dealing drugs. Even her next-door-neighbor, June Bug, a boy she grew up with, has become a crack dealer. Along with the dealers' presence has come an ever-increasing menace to Tasha's neighborhood: guns. It isn't uncommon for Tasha to hear sporadic gunfire at night, and she is aware of random shootings in which innocent people are killed.
Q: Why do you use the titles of children's songs to title your chapters?
CP: The song titles serve two purposes. First, they show how close to childhood Tasha still is. In many ways she is still a child. Part of what Tasha struggles with is a sense of duality. The songs of childhood speak of her past, of the simple and innocent time in her life. She would like to return to that girlhood, but that is not possible. Second, the songs speak about Tasha's current life, her adolescence, and, like this complex time, the meaning extends beyond the words of the song.
For example, in Chapter Two, "All in Together, Girls," Tasha meets a boy she likes while she and a group of her girlfriends are jumping rope to that song. For little girls, it is a song of unity, asking them to answer a call and join together. In the case of these adolescent girls, it is a song about how black teenage girls are often thrown together, how they are stereotyped by the larger society and sometimes by black society itself.
Q: Well, Tasha is a poor, black teenager with a baby. By making her all these things, isn't she a stereotype?
CP: Tasha is far from being a stereotype. Tasha's general description does fit that of thousands upon thousands of black girls, and that is partly the reason why I wrote this book. I feel there is an assumption that we do know them, know their stories, have heard their voices, and if we haven't, there isn't much to tell. Stereotypes are more powerful in our world than in the world of fiction. When used in fiction, it can provide a writer with a quick, superficial description of a character. When used in our world, it provides a way to dismiss the very particular lives of people, and I don't know how often we acknowledge its power.
I grew up very poor. I'm one of nine children who were raised in a housing project, went to public school and public universities. I feel truly blessed because of my upbringing. Never have I lost sight of the fact that as a child, because of my class and color, some people actually did stereotype me as doomed to fail.
I'm part of a mentoring program at an inner-city elementary school. Most of the children are raised by a single parent, and the number of parents who are substance abusers is high. I know there are some who would write off these kids, reduce their lives to the odds stacked against them, but when I see their faces each week, I can't. Like Tasha, like Imani, each of their lives is a complex story that stereotypes cannot begin to address.
Q: You have written for children and for adults; who do you see as being the audience for this book?
CP: I see this book as having a broad audience. When I've toured for my children's books, I was quite pleased to find that many mothers were reading my books along with their daughters. What some mothers told me was that they found themselves having serious conversations about the history of slavery, issues of race and prejudice, and the historical roles of women in the U.S. I'm talking about adults speaking with girls ages 7 through 12. White mothers would sometimes say to me that they lived in all-white neighborhoods and their children went to all-white schools, but they wanted to talk to their children about some of the issues I mentioned. They were grateful my book provided a starting point for the conversations they wanted and needed to have.
I see Imani All Mine as being a bridge, a way for adult women and adolescent women to have conversations about some issues women face. Tasha faces difficult challenges in her life, and sadly she doesn't turn to her mother enough. Sure, she loves her mother, and her mother loves her, but we all know it's common for teens to shut down and not always communicate with the women in their lives -- their mothers, aunts, grandmothers, even their older sisters.
Q: In recent years, you've had what might be called a moment of crisis. In 1993, one of your nieces was murdered at the age of 20 in a random shooting. You've dedicated this book to her and her siblings. Did her death change you, bring you closer to anybody?
CP: My niece Tia Porter was killed by a shot fired from an assault rifle, which went through the wall of her house. Tia and I were very close. Her mother died when Tia was 17, and I was a surrogate mother to her. I don't have any children, but I felt like I had lost a child of my own. Before Tia died, I had told her about a book I was working on. It was inspired by a murder that happened in Boston about seven years ago -- a young mother named Kimberly Harbor was killed; she died leaving behind a young child. Her death really touched me. She was a black young woman about my niece's age who was killed by young black men -- boys, really. They were all so young, and I wondered whether there was a reason for her death. I also wondered, when Kimberly's name stopped airing on the local news, who would remember her? What would be the measure of her life? That she was raped and then beaten to death? I knew there were many more young black women who died brutal and senseless and quickly forgotten deaths in this country, and I wanted to write a book about one of them, to have a book about her whole life and not just her death.
When I told Tia [what] I wanted to write about for my second novel, she told me she would never read it because it was going to be too sad. When Tia was killed, also leaving behind a young child -- an 18-month-old son -- I couldn't go on with the book in the way I had planned. There was still too much pain there, and no matter what, I felt people would think I was capitalizing on her death. I'm truly grateful to my editor, because once she came up with the idea for the voice of the book, I found a way to tell the story I wanted in an unexpected way.
I know I've been changed by my niece's death. I was talking to a friend the other day, and I told him I think God opens doors in people's lives. I don't mean that God causes tragedy, but I think he provides a way out if you choose to take it. You can choose to spend the rest of your life behind the open door, and if you do it is a choice. At one point after Tia was killed, that was where I chose to be. I couldn't think of her without crying. I couldn't write. I withdrew from friends and family. In that process I did come closer to someone. Myself.
Courtesy of Houghton Mifflin Company
