A Recent Treasure Find: “Milo Imagines the World”

I was scrolling Instagram and an image caught my eye. The Alliance Theater in Atlanta was advertising a children’s play based on the picture book “Milo Imagines the World” by Matt de la Peña and illustrated by Christian Robinson. When I saw the advertisement, I immediately looked up the book. What really stood out to me was the illustration on the cover. They were familiar. I remembered learning about the illustrator Christian Robinson and his work with items sold at Target a while back. (Click here to find more work by Christian Robinson. Click here for Good Morning America’s 2021 interview with Matt de la Pena and Christian Robinson.)

I considered taking my daughter to see the performance at the Alliance Theater, and wanted to make the experience full by reading the book with her first. I recently bought and read “Milo Imagines the World.” While I’m not sure yet if I’ll take my daughter to see the play, I wanted to share my thoughts on the book.

“Milo Imagines the World” is an unexpected treasure that presents valuable reflection and conversation opportunities for children and adults alike. It starts with Milo and his sister boarding a train. Most of the story unfolds during this train ride. We see Milo observing his environment and the people who are on the train with him. He imagines what their lives are like based on what they look like. He then illustrates what he imagines in his sketchbook. At the climax of the story, we see Milo getting off the train at the same stop as one of the riders he has illustrated. To Milo’s surprise, they are headed to the exact same place. This reality prompts Milo to reconsider his earlier imaginings and illustrations. He then reimagined each person he had drawn on the train ride.

While I’m leaving out specific details so as not to ruin the story for those who haven’t read the book, what I will say is that “Milo Imagines the World” is a book that offers readers an opportunity to realize, reflect on, and challenge their immediate judgements of others that are based solely on appearance. The book also offers opportunities for adults to facilitate reflection and conversation on topics such as incarceration, family structure, and bias with children of all ages.

While I’m not sure if our summer schedule will open itself to a trip to the Alliance Theater, I will forever be grateful for the ad that prompted me to revisit and purchase this book.

Movie Night+

If this summer is teaching me anything, it’s the value, beauty, opportunity, and magic in the seemingly little things…

A little over a week ago, my daughter and I were browsing Disney+, trying to decide what to watch. To our surprise, Snow White had finally been released. My daughter had wanted to see it when it was in theaters, but my husband mentioned the reviews weren’t great. So, we decided to wait until it came to Disney+, and that day had finally arrived. We planned a family movie night.

The morning of our movie night, before I left for work and camp drop-off, my husband mentioned that theaters now allow you to buy popcorn without needing a movie ticket. I’m not going to lie—I wasn’t feeling the idea of stopping somewhere after work on the way home. I neither declined nor committed to the task in the moment.

Nevertheless, one thing I’m learning is to cherish the present, and that small acts of intentionality can turn ordinary moments into something truly special.

So, I stopped at the movie theater and got popcorn on the way home.

My daughter was thrilled, and when my husband found out I had stopped, I could hear the excitement in his voice, too.

A tub of popcorn and two plastic ramekins of butter completely elevated our family movie night.

We all piled into the bed together, with popcorn, candy, and pop. Our initial excitement about watching Snow White had shifted. It had become something more. This wasn’t just another family movie night—it had become something magical.

As I sat in bed, fully present, noticing the moment, noticing their faces and disposition…my heart filled with gratitude and joy. The reminder was clear: the little things are so precious and so full of potential. And savoring those little things—that’s what makes for a life filled with joy.

Books that Affirm the Beauty and Being of Black Children

I’ve been searching for books that are rich in content and beautifully illustrated—books I can surround my daughter with. What children see and hear is so important. It speaks to them of what is possible, what is normal, what is beautiful, and what is important. What they see and hear shapes both their perspective and imagination.

In our home, we read a variety of books, but it’s especially important to me that my daughter has easy access to stories that showcase the beauty of various shades of brown and different textures of hair. The books below are Amazon finds I recently purchased. What initially drew me in were the beautiful depictions of Black children on the covers. As I read, I found that these books—woven with poetry and history—tell stories that affirm the identity and dreams of brown-skinned children.

I couldn’t find much information about the authors or illustrators, but I’ve hyperlinked each book at the end of this post.

I need my daughter to see that her shade of brown and her hair’s texture are so beautiful that writers and artists felt compelled to capture and celebrate them in their work. I need her to see this effort on movie screens and in music videos. I need her to hear it, as talented artists and producers infuse it into their creations. (Sidenote: I’m so grateful for Beyoncé’s “Brown Skin Girl”! It’s a regular track during bathtime and hair day.)

When my daughter spreads her wings and leaves our home, I want her to place a period at the end of every affirmative statement about herself—her beauty, her ability, and her worth.

I am enough. PERIOD
I am beautiful. PERIOD
I am smart. PERIOD
I am able. PERIOD
I am worthy. PERIOD

Too often, the world tries to twist these affirmations into questions:

Am I enough?

Am I beautiful?
Am I smart?
Am I able?
Am I worthy?

Then, once the question is planted in the soul, the world moves on—attempting to turn those original truths into lies that bind, hinder, break, and suffocate.

I am not enough.
I am not beautiful.
I am not smart.
I am not able.
I am not worthy.

Our belief systems influence our decisions and actions. They show up in how we talk about ourselves, what we accept and don’t accept, the types of risks we take, and the expectations we hold for ourselves and others.

As parents and caregivers, we have the opportunity—no, the responsibility—to help shape healthy belief systems and self-concept. For those of us raising children whose skin holds larger quantities of melanin, we must be especially intentional about ensuring they see and know their beauty and worth—without question.

I’m grateful for a husband who uses his words to continually affirm and build up our daughter. As an artist, educator, and writer, I feel it’s my responsibility to parallel his intentionality by placing books in her hands that echo the truth of her beauty, strength, history, worth, ability, and potential.

With that said, I’ll be back over time to share the books we love—those that are supporting us as we steward the healthy development of our daughter.

Coffee Shops, Spilled Cocoa, and Meaningful Moments

Eclectic coffee shops are my jam. The noise of the world melts away. The heightened awareness of the world’s stimuli fades, and what rises to the top are my thoughts, ideas, inspiration, and creative energy. Coffee shops with good seating, art, and books create an atmosphere that fosters creative flow. They are sacred places to me. They can also be places of connection—working side by side with people I enjoy spending time with.

Before my daughter could walk or talk, I dreamed of one day having coffee dates with her in these spaces that mean so much to me. Last weekend, I finally had that opportunity. I needed to get out of my head. I needed to regroup. I looked up local shops and found one nearby to try out—and it was a hit. Great seating. Lots of plugs. An ambience that fit my style.

My daughter joined me on this adventure. Before we left the house, I told her to grab a book and a notebook to bring with her. She asked if she could also take her stuffy. We filled our bags with magazines, books, pens, highlighters, my laptop, and her stuffed animal, then set off. She also brought her purse and jewelry. She was excited—and so was I.

She ordered hot chocolate and a grilled cheese sandwich. I ordered a chai latte and a chicken panini. We shared a muffin. We found a spot by the window, pulled out our things, and settled in. I really wanted to work on some online magazine submissions. She wanted to look at her book. Interestingly enough, her math workbooks ended up grabbing her attention the most. I sat with an open screen, helping her get settled, periodically answering questions. I wasn’t really able to get into a writing groove, but I was acutely aware that I was in the midst of a moment—an extremely meaningful one.

I was in a sacred place with someone I love dearly, surrounded by the smells of coffee, within arm’s reach of my own hot drink, and surrounded by papers and books. I paused. I inhaled the moment and exhaled gratitude.

Sometimes, moments don’t look exactly like I imagined them (side-by-side reading and writing, cranking out pieces), but they become exactly what they’re meant to be—a moment of connection, of seeing and being seen.

Moments after leaving the coffee shop, hot chocolate spilled all over the rugs in the back of my car. A rush of reality flooded my emotions. And then I paused.

Embrace the moment, Ashley.
Savor the moment. It’s not that big of a deal. Savor this time of connection.

I quickly checked my disposition, which had immediately been consumed by frustration. But then, what I had gained during our time inside the coffee shop began to carry over. In that moment, I made a decision to let meaningful connection triumph over life’s small irritations.

I took a deep breath. Cleaned as much as I could in the parking lot. Got in the car, put on music, and sang with my daughter all the way home. I decided not to let a cup of spilled cocoa ruin our moment, but instead to carry our coffee shop connection into the ride home.

Here’s to intentionally having the best summer ever!

“Sometimes moments aren’t exactly what I’d hoped they’d be, but they’re exactly what I needed them to be.”
— AJM Ellis

The Best Summer Ever

The weekend after the last week of school and before summer camp began, my daughter and I decided to make a list of things that would make this summer the best summer ever. I’m a crafter, so I have not-so-random supplies in my office/studio. I found a long, narrow piece of chart paper, brought it to the living room with the necessary supplies, and began drafting a checklist to help my daughter and me have the best summer ever.

For me, the main goal was to set our minds and effort on having a great summer, primarily utilizing the resources we had within our immediate reach. We took turns sharing ideas and writing them down. I modeled examples of simple but meaningful (to us) activities/goals. For instance, we love to dance, so learning two line dances was an activity I added. I also pushed a little (but not so much that it would make the list a chore). For example, I have added a personal aspiration to read three books. My daughter wanted to have a similar goal, but our books are completely different in length and complexity. I pointed out that she had read three books just a few days before and suggested she set her goal to “many” books and tally the number she read. This would allow her to read for the love of reading and celebrate the quantity read.

Since we posted our list on one of the doors in our home, we’ve thought of other activities like making up and recording a skit and trying out a new fruit (dragonfruit to be exact).

This exercise was low-pressure, high-engagement. I didn’t try to over-regulate or consume the list with my ideas. I facilitated co-creation. I allowed it to be truly a collaboration. In addition, our list is not a task list of must-dos but rather a visual reminder to make our summer great with the simple joys right at our fingertips.

I hope to follow up in a month or so and share with you reflections and stories.

In the meantime, here’s to the BEST SUMMER EVER!

The Images We See...Matter

These are some of the images that hang in my daughter’s view. They represent verses, affirmations, and prayers regarding her. What we see, what we say, and what we hear all impact our self-concept. She may not fully understand the images we surround her with now, but they matter. The world offers so many other messages. Through my words and art, I will ensure my daughter is saturated with love, truth, and light.

Bath Time

Bath time used to be a place of solace, reflection, and release for me. I could stay in the tub for over an hour. If the water got cold, I’d add more hot water.

Things are a bit different now. It’s not unusual that just as I lean my head back and close my eyes, I hear the dragging of a stool in close proximity to the tub. I open my eyes to see my daughter attempting to play with the bubbles, talk to me, or just be in the same room with me. I dare not lie and say that I always welcome these moments. Nevertheless, tonight’s bath time was different.

Last weekend, we purchased three new books from the bookstore- all favorite read-alouds of mine. Out of the three, my daughter’s favorite was “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day” by Judy Viorst. I decided to reread it to her while she was in the tub. I LOVE this book. It gives so much room for antics and using your facial expression and voice inflection to bring to life Alexander’s exasperation as you read. When I finished reading, my daughter asked if she could read it to me while she was still in the bath. To avoid wet pages and not extend bath time by 20 to 30 more minutes, I told her she could read it to me while I was in the tub.

I finished my daughter’s bath time, got her dressed, grabbed her dessert, and started my own bath water. She dragged her pink chair from her table set into my bathroom and used our regular stool to hold her napkin and cookie. As she read, she began to imitate my reading of “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.” She read with excitement, spelling words for me that she couldn’t pronounce. Because I was familiar with the story, anticipation of certain words helped me support her. I didn’t try to “teach” her per se; however, I did use questions to push her thinking. I mimicked Alexander, laughed at some happenings, and engaged with the characters and storyline. Multiple times, my daughter spelled out the word “could.” I made a mental note to post could, should, and would somewhere around the house in the next several days and practice reading those words with her. In the meantime, I told her the world every time she asked. We laughed when she realized what the word was by the third or fourth ask. By the end of the book, she remembered what it was. She felt no shame in not knowing a word. Our energy was light. She was enjoying a book, enjoying the reading, enjoying the storyline, and enjoying the experience of reading this particular book with me.

Bath time tonight was invaluable.

I embraced the moment. I embraced our version of bath time and in return received an opportunity to experience the joy of a good story with my daughter.