Change can be scary. Moving day is right up there with death on the list of high stress situations that we as humans encounter. In these times of political division, Miri’s Moving Day presents a reminder that our strength as a community comes from the diverse backgrounds of the people who live around us. Miri finds that diversity within her own family, like so many of us do. That diversity gives her the strength to embrace change.
Co-authoring is unusual for writers. How did you become creative partners?
SMW: We met in a teacher/student setting, where Adam was a standout. We soon became colleagues, co-authoring legal panel presentations and a law review article. I am a big fan of co-authoring because diverse perspectives, especially across lines of difference, offer a more interesting result -- plus it’s a fun way to create!
ARC: As a young queer person, I struggled to communicate my
identity because I lacked the vocabulary and the means to translate newfound
terminology both linguistically and culturally. As a law student, I learned the
technical form of persuasive writing, but only in reading the theories and
ideas of professors like Stephanie, did I come to appreciate the humanity and
heart that can come through in (typically boring) legal writing. Working
collaboratively nurtures my own creativity, and I love that we learn from each
other.
What is your collaborative process?
SMW: Unlike this blog post, in which we each answer questions in our own voice, we typically work in a shared Google Doc, melding our voices. Sometimes we each write separately and then edit our ideas together. Sometimes we begin with one draft and edit together – it really does depend on the story. Our time together is generative of ideas we might not think of on our own.
ARC: We ask a lot of questions! I think we both come from
backgrounds and values that center hospitality—care and attention for others.
We have excitement for shared ideas, and we have discourse about our differing
thoughts. The value of co-authoring is giving equal (and sometimes more) weight
to our partner. This exercise, in my opinion, makes our writing stronger.
What was your inspiration for writing this book?
SMW: One of my grandson’s asked over dinner, “Can I be Chinese and Jewish?” His father answered, “Yes, because you ARE.” My grandson’s question reaffirmed for me that children with shared multiple heritages needed more representation in picture books.
ARC: Many of the characters we develop together—children
with Chinese and Jewish heritage—discover the strength in their multiple
heritages. As a foster child, my daughter came to me at six months old, and in
the past nine years, has been raised by two Chinese American fathers. The
conversations and lessons we explore together about her own Latine culture,
coupled with the customs and traditions practiced by her adoptive family, are
topics that inform my writing.
Recall a big change in your life.
SMW: Moving days, first days of school, first days of a new job, all mark stressful occasions, but also occasions to measure where one has been and where one is going. My most recent big change was retiring from forty plus years as a law professor and becoming a children’s book author. From the stress of change has come some of my most rewarding, positive moments.
ARC: By the time I was 12 years old, I had lived in seven
different homes. Change can be stressful, especially moving day. I didn’t have
the opportunity to explore my emotions with these big changes. So it was
important to me that Miri’s Moving Day showed both children and adults
how to make room for emotions.
We loved Miri so much that we didn’t want to let her go. We imagined her as an adult heading to college in this short story:
Miri’s Moving Mitzvah
by Adam Chang & Stephanie Wildman
Miri sat on the metro train hugging her carry-on bag. She used one foot to brace her rolling suitcase against the wall. She was glad the train wasn’t too crowded so she could breathe deeply and close her eyes. She remembered the last time she had moved.
She had been seven years old, leaving the only home she had ever known – one she and her parents shared with her father’s parents, Yeh Yeh and Mah Mah. She started the morning as she had this one, lighting incense and blessing the day. Only that time she had said the blessings with Yeh Yeh. Today, she was on her own.
At her grandparents’ home she told the stone lions guarding
their house that she didn’t want to move. When Miri was a child, Mah Mah made
delicious picnics with rice and eggs, and Yeh Yeh performed stories with the
brave, friendly lions. The lions had been her playmates, with Yeh Yeh and Mah
Mah, while her parents worked.
On that moving day, Zaide, her Jewish grandfather, had come to fetch her with a promise of ice cream on the way to her new place. Yeh Yeh surprised her by joining them in the car and putting a gift on top of the package already in the back seat.
Yeh Yeh had given her a mezuzah with blue stones. “A mezuzah will bless your new home.” Zaide gifted her a pair of carved cinnabar lions that fit in her hand, replicas of the stone lions that guarded her house. She zipped open her carry-on to make sure the lions were nestled safely in the side pouch.
As the train hummed and gently jostled over the tracks, Miri fingered the wrapped box from Mah Mah. Mah Mah had come over early that morning. “Here,” Mah Mah pressed the gift into her hand, “for your new dorm room. Yeh Yeh would have given this to you himself, if he could. Open it when you get there.”
Miri blinked back a tear, remembering Yeh Yeh’s first moving day gift as she zipped back up her bag. She had an idea what was in the package today. Especially since Zaide’s going away gift had been a small hammer and some nails. Miri opened her eyes as the morning sunlight filled the train cabin. Next stop, airport, and then, college.
SMW: Tears come to my eyes whenever I read this story of the grown-up Miri. I’m sad at Yeh Yeh’s passing, thinking of my own Zaide and how important he was in my life. And I love that the seeds of Miri’s multicultural heritage blossomed in her as an adult, where a mezuzah from her Chinese grandfather still had deep meaning.
ARC: In a year from now, I might ask Stephanie to imagine Miri with me, when Miri has her own family (whatever form that takes!).
Concluding thoughts:
Jewish culture, like most, emphasizes the idea of mitzvot, precepts for building a better personal life and community. In Cantonese, ?? (ga ting) means “family.” And family in Chinese culture prioritizes the strength and bonds that exist in the extended intergenerational family. These cultural markers provide guidance and strength in the face of challenges to people of all ages.
We invite you to check out our educational resources guide
for teaching the book here.