A few days after my mother passed last January, I found myself drawn to a book on my coffee table. Its cover showed a little Black girl holding the hand of an elderly Black woman as they walked through a field of pink and purple flowers. The book Like So, by acclaimed children’s book author and prize‑winning poet Ruth Forman, is a lyrical call‑and‑response between a little girl and her grandmother. It begins “I kiss you like so / you kiss me like so…” and ends with the girl alone, eyes closed, smiling up at the constellations: “we got love / like so.”
I’d read it before, but this time it felt like a sanctuary, hosting both the grief and happiness of my childhood memories—like my mother holding my hand, reading me Dr. Seuss or one of her favorite poems, “Trees,” by Joyce Kilmer. And on Saturdays after my piano lessons, dropping me off at the library, where I was surrounded by endless stacks of books.
As with many people, Forman’s story echoes my own. She shared her passion for writing came from her mother, who—just like mine—took her to the library on Saturdays. In fact, Forman read so much that she began writing her own children’s stories, already knowing this was what she wanted to do when she “grew up”—a dream fulfilled. In addition, she is a poet, and that’s how my personal connection with her began: she was my first poetry teacher at a VONA workshop more than twenty years ago.
During our conversation, I asked what superpower she’d want as a writer and learned she admires Storm from The X-Men for her ability to change the air. Forman recalled an experience at a Wanda Coleman poetry reading in Los Angeles, where the audience hung on every word—so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Coleman had “changed the air in the room.” That’s the power she wishes for: to “shift the atmosphere” so people feel something in the moment and leave transformed. If you ask me, she is already Storm. Listening to Forman read her poems makes that clear—especially one of my favorites, “Prayers Like Shoes“, which begins, “I wear prayers like shoes / pull ’em on quiet each morning / take me through the uncertain day.”
I spoke with Forman about her new children’s book, Do I Love You? Yes I Do!, released this month. It features the same little girl from Like So, but this time the story centers on her relationship with her mother. As the universe would have it, I received my copy near the first anniversary of my mother’s passing. In her final year, she was largely nonverbal, but one day, in a rare moment, her voice returned after I said, “I love you.” She whispered back, “And I love you more than you will ever know,” a response that, in that instant, “shifted my atmosphere”—the same feeling I get when I read Forman’s work.
Forman’s relationship with Atlanta goes back decades to the days of the National Black Arts Festival. When she’s here, in addition to spending time with family, she likes watching people in motion and enjoying themselves—“definitely the vibe on the Beltline,” she says. She’s also drawn to the city’s parks. “Piedmont Park stands out as a wonderful spot, and I enjoyed sitting on one of the bench swings by the water with my daughter.” If you ask me, that sounds like the beginning of another Ruth Forman book.
Ruth, can you tell us about your new book and what the writing journey was like for you?
Well, there are actually two coming out in January: one is a board book version of Like So, and then Do I Love You? Yes I Do!, which I wrote for my daughter when she was around four years old. She needed reinforcement of self-love and acceptance of who she was, so I wanted to create something just for her based on a song we used to sing together. Ultimately, the story holds four major themes, all from the child’s perspective: 1) big love between mother and daughter, 2) big love between nature and daughter, 3) mother and daughter’s deeper connection to the ancestors and universe, and 4) the daughter’s self-love.
My daughter is 14 now, so the journey to publication took about 10 years, with numerous revisions. When my agent first sent it out, there were some kind passes, and I took their feedback, sat with it, ending up with about 55 different drafts over the years, trying out various voices, but always returning to the girl’s voice because it felt so true. In the meantime, I still read the story to my daughter, and I have a beautiful photo of her with her own illustrated cover of Do I Love You? Yes I Do! when she was four. Fast forward several years: my agent sent it out a third or fourth time and my editor wanted it. It took a significant amount of time, but I had a wonderful experience working with my editor, art designer, and the amazing Raissa Figueroa, whose illustrations were beautiful. I’m so excited about this book, and I want the whole world to celebrate with me.
You mentioned Like So. I have a copy, and when I read it—maybe because of what I was going through—it felt like a gentle way to hold grief. Was that intentional?
Yes, that book has layers. People read it and take from it what they need. Some see the profound connection between a grandmother and her granddaughter, which, to me, is a force of nature, reflecting the beauty of connections in nature—like chickadees and trees or the moon and the water. It’s an eternal bond. I still feel the love of those who cared for me in my childhood, even though they are no longer here.
Some readers immediately feel that connection, especially if they’ve lost someone; they experience the grandmother as if she has passed on. Others imagine the grandmother is back at her home in another state and the child is waiting for her return. It depends on the reader’s personal story. I wanted to create space for these interpretations, especially as we were coming out of COVID and so many people in our community had lost loved ones. I wanted to reaffirm the strong bonds between grandchild and grandparent and for the story to be layered.
If you were to produce a film or TV series based on your collection of children’s books, which one would you choose, and why?
When you ask me that, I immediately think of Do I Love You? Yes I Do! because I love the story and the little girl’s character so much. When I saw Raissa’s illustrations—especially the spread of the girl and her mother sitting at the beach, singing to each other—I saw myself with my own mom.
My mother let me explore nature just like the little girl does. It feels so important now for children to understand their worth and value in a world that can feel scary. I realized the love I want to instill in my daughter also mirrors what my mom instilled in me. So, the book also became a love song for my mother as much as for my daughter. I’d want the TV series to reflect that, because there’s so much to draw from in creating this girl’s world.
What themes or questions do you find yourself returning to across both your poetry and your children’s books?
I’m a student of June Jordan. The first class I took with her was about the reading and writing of African American poetry and the legacy of African American literature. One of the key points she made was that an important aspect of this literature is giving people something that makes them want to get up and see another day. You can talk about what’s going wrong in the world, but also what can give hope.
I try to do that in my poetry. I may talk about difficult or horrible things, but I also talk about what’s worth celebrating in the human spirit and community. I do this in my children’s books, starting with Young Cornrows Calling Out the Moon. I now place greater emphasis on instilling a sense of celebration, joy, and self-love in my most recent books, starting with the Curls series: Curls, Glow, Bloom, Ours, One, and Light, as well as Like So and Do I Love You? Yes I Do!
All have a sense of celebration and joy that is naturally within our children, and I want to help reinforce those qualities before external forces erode them. It’s important for children to be able to hold onto what they arrive with and walk through life with this sense of love for themselves and others because that will help them to want to get up and see another day and do what it is that they need to do in this world.
You put so much into inspiring your readers… what keeps you going?
My faith. Being a Baha’i gives me a sense of hope, promise, and humanity, and I want to carry that hope and light for others. When I feel inspired by someone’s artwork or am moved by someone, it gives me energy and motivates me to continue my work. My faith fuels me. I also feel the presence of ancestors and, like June mentioned, our legacy in African American literature. As I create, I never feel alone. While I can’t point to something physical and say, “Here it is,” I often experience these feelings as surprises, but know them to be true. I come from a long line of artists, poets, and writers who are here to help people remember the joy of life and being human. Like the little girl inDo I Love You? Yes I Do!, I was fortunate enough to explore nature, connect with the water, look at and be with the sky, and know I am part of something bigger. I hope that a little bit of my work helps carry that love and remembrance to those who read the words.
For more info about Forman, you can connect with her on IG, Bluesky and Facebook pages as well as her website.