“I wish,” says the girl, “I could reach across the ocean and hold her up.” I wish, I wish. In the book, the granddaughter video conferences her popo, who eventually grows older and unwell. Immigrant children are, I think, the most generous in how they expand a household to stretch a globe -if that’s what it takes to account for their popos in Taiwan. Credit: Livia Blackburne and Julia Kuo (Macmillan Publishers)įor the child who is imaginative enough, creative enough to assemble a family based on who loves them and whom they love. And in return, the girl and this book respond: a nd I will share them all with you.

In the picture book, the popo reassures her granddaughter that her move will be an adventure: “You will learn and see many new things,” she says. I hope this anchors every first-generation immigrant in a sense of belonging: no matter how suspended they may feel between two worlds, there is someone on either side that loves them.įor the overseas grandparent, who might see that these sparse moments with their grandchildren resonate far beyond the brevity of their time spent together. That their particular love and tenderness somehow transcend the difficult circumstances. I think of mothers and fathers reading this to their young children, missing their own parents in Taiwan, touched that despite it all – physical, linguistic, cultural barriers – the relationship between a grandchild and grandparent somehow prevails. A book like this has something for everyone, of every generation:įor the parent who has chosen distance by way of emigration, and suffers daily its incalculable griefs and sacrifices. I belong to one of those families, and though as a single, childless 24-year-old, I’m not the typical audience of a picture book, I am among its weepiest, most affected readers. In an editor’s note, Hsu writes that signing Kuo imbued the picture book’s art with “details that only someone familiar with our heritage could, like the shoes by the front door of popo’s house, the giant sack of rice grains in the kitchen, and the Lunar New Year table laden with delicious food… this book feels like home to us.” Credit: Livia Blackburne and Julia Kuo (Macmillan Publishers)īoth author and illustrator include personal notes to conclude the book, underscoring a particular intimacy grounded in specifics to render a book accessible to all, but tremendously significant for transnational, Taiwanese families. “I Dream of Popo,” published in January of 2021, was shaped by a triumvirate of Taiwanese American women: author Livia Blackburne, illustrator Julia Kuo, and editor Connie Hsu (Roaring Brook Press). She misses her popo every day, but even if their visits are fleeting, their love is ever true and strong.” “When a young girl and her family emigrate from Taiwan to America, she leaves behind her beloved popo, her grandmother.

I dream of popo