Posted by: jeannineatkins | December 15, 2016

Loving People of the Past

During the last class of my writing for children course, the students shared bear-shaped chocolates and wonderful final projects, and I answered some questions about what may come next. For twelve weeks we focused on craft, but now we squinted at what they might do with their work. I tried to sound casual about the time that publishing might take, but I’m afraid some were counting years with some alarm. I shifted the focus to what they could do to withstand rejection, which almost every writer experiences. Read Art and Fear and most importantly, stay in touch with each other, and form a writing group or pair up with partners. It’s important, I said, to meet in person or online partly to critique, but also to share the process of what happens when sending, or avoiding sending, writing into the world. Doubt can creep in, and it’s wise to have friends to help put uncertainty in its proper place. When you can’t rustle up your own confidence, good friends can remind you of your worth.

We can use a thin skin to write, but may want a thickening skin to publish. I did not mention that I started sending out Stone Mirrors: The Sculpture and Silence of Edmonia Lewis, the book that’s coming out next month, so long ago that it was printed on computers that are historic and made its way through the post office, rather than in attachments. I was writing in an era of different dogs and a daughter still living under our roof, first in prose then in verse, draft after draft after draft. There were lots of revision and rejections before it landed on the desk of the right person at the right publishing house at the right time. What remained constant was my love for its subject – and that’s something I mentioned more than once to my students, too: write about people, real or imaginary, who you crave as company for a long time.


We don’t need to count the months or years of work, but to stay true to the fictional or real or in-between people who matter. Edmonia Lewis’s courage called to me when I read about her life and art fifteen or twenty years ago. In l862, she attended co-educational classes in Oberlin, where students of color could earn degrees for the first time, though perhaps not made entirely welcome. Some of what happened to Edmonia Lewis in one dormitory seemed close to the kinds of discrimination and violence sadly still familiar today. With enormous determination, she grieved, fought, and moved past horrific acts to become a sculptor famous in her time. She was forgotten for decades, but brought back to attention largely by feminist and black art historians in the 1970’s. Now her work is displayed in museums including The Metropolitan Museum of Art, which currently displays busts of Hiawatha and Minnehaha, and The Smithsonian, which holds eight marble sculptures, including Dying Cleopatra.


There are gaps in the historical record, making her life seem a good subject for verse, since I could start with research and use empathy to fill in lost scenes. Poetry reminds us that questions are often as powerful as answers. I honor the word Maybe as much as fact. Writing about women I believe should be better known gives me a drive – I mean to get to the work and get it right – that I hope also propels a narrative. And there’s a deepening because of all the time it takes, going back again and again, that creates some lyric in the work, the imagery and rhythms. 

I studied Edmonia Lewis’s statues, asking what might have compelled her to choose her subjects. Some reflected the sculptor’s background and drive for social justice, and her best known works of Hagar and Cleopatra are powerful women who faced exile or its threat. Since Edmonia Lewis left little and conflicting records about her childhood with Ojibwe aunts in upstate New York, I researched the sorts of homes they might have lived in, the food they likely ate, and how they might have struggled to make their way. I read about the ways Oberlin College, its preparatory school, and the community dealt with integrated classes, and what it was like to live as a free person of color in Ohio during the Civil War, then afterward, in Boston and Rome. I read about the complexities of being biracial and the damage that racism wreaks. There’s a round of research, respect for a life and time that’s different, but never entirely so, and remembering feelings we might have in common.

At last I got my author copies! Here I show it with flap copy I got to write as a poem.


I’m grateful for starred reviews from Kirkus and Booklist, which says, “How this brave, driven young woman overcame prejudice and trauma to pursue her artistic calling to the highest level . . . is a story that warrants such artful retelling.” The Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books writes: “Written with sensitivity and grace, this compelling title of injustice and vindication will leave readers pondering the complicated relationship between pain and art.” Stone Mirrors is not an easy read, but I hope Edmonia Lewis will  show readers one amazing way of moving forward. Knowing history can make us stronger.




  1. Well done, Jeannine! And yes, holding onto the project is like holding on to the woman, a project you just can’t let go.

    • I know you understand, devoted to projects of your own. Wishing you the best with them!

  2. This post is a work of art, your journey woven alongside Edmonia’s. The book looks and sounds gorgeous, and I’m so happy for your triumph, Jeannine. Brava!

    • Tracy, thanks so much. After all this time, it is a thrill to see the book dressed so very well, with Ekua Holmes’s gorgeous cover art, a lovely design, and violet jacket beneath!

  3. Can’t wait to read this one, Jeannine! And you are wise to counsel your students to write about subjects or people they are passionate about. It really does take a long time for some books to see the light!

    • Yes, I know of your devotion, too, to inspiring women who deserve more recognition. They keep us going!

  4. Oh, I can’t wait to learn more about Edmonia! And yes to the maybes and the facts. Thank you for putting to words my own thoughts so precisely. (You do that a lot!) xo

    • You are too sweet — it’s an honor to be anywhere near if not on your wavelengths! xo

  5. Your love of and commitment to Edmonia reminds me so much of mine to and for Lizzie Alcott. I expect to be keeping company with her and the rest of the family for several years to come as there are so many gaps in her history too. The research part has gotten down to sifting through piles of hay to find that one precious needle, the key that opens the door to yet another part of the mystery. And I hope to fill in also with empathy and research those missing parts of her life. Biography and fiction are indeed alike in that you fall in love with and become obsessed with your characters. I want to get this thing written before I’m too old to go out at night but at the same time want to relish this time of discovery which is so rich.

    I will have to read your book to see how you did it. 🙂 I’m glad you found the right publisher.

    • As you probably guess, the love doesn’t end with the book. I’ll keep reading about Edmonia Lewis, May Alcott, and others — visiting places that meant something to them — through my life. But both great goals you articulated so well — to relish the process, and imagine an ending. So happy you are bringing Lizzie back to a new life!

      • Of all the creative ventures I’ve ever embarked on, this is been the most consuming and the most pleasurable. I don’t want it to ever end and it looks like it won’t! 🙂

        • I love hearing that. So often people want to have the work be done and published, when the deepest joy is what you’re doing now. But I expect a time will come when Lizzie will whisper: You’re done. And something good will await.

  6. So looking forward to reading this! Congrats on the starred reviews and it is just too cool that you wrote the flap copy in verse. 🙂

    • Thanks, Jama. Of course you know I always aim to be cool!

  7. I’m very much looking forward to getting Edmonia’s book in my hands. I’m so glad to know it’s coming into the world in the coming year – something to look forward to!

    • Yes, we need things to look forward to, and backwards also, like warm memories of talking about Edmonia and other great women, and poetry, with you. Thanks for all!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: