Once upon a time, in the homogenous world of children’s book illustration…

Anyone who regularly reads to a small child will know they often look for themselves on the page; shouting “That’s me!” pointing to the protagonist. It’s cute, then suddenly staggering when you find out that only five per cent of children’s books published in 2019 feature a Black, Asian or minority ethnic main character, according to the latest UK report by the Centre for Literacy in Primary Education (CLPE). Just ten per cent of published books featured any non-white characters at all, despite the fact that 33.5 per cent of UK school age pupils came from minority ethnic backgrounds. It’s infuriating and despairing, particularly when you explore the impact that gross lack of representation might have on children.

In 2019, UCL professor Melanie Ramdarshan Bold wrote a report published by BookTrust that went beyond the depiction of diverse characters and investigated the representation of people of colour among children’s book authors and illustrators, in books published between 2007-2017. Inclusive children’s literature is vital, she writes, because books “can act as mirrors, to reflect the readers’ own lives, but also as windows so readers can learn about, understand and appreciate the lives of others”. Books have the power to shape how young readers see themselves, and how they see and understand diversity, she says. Worryingly, the absence of an inclusive range of characters or creative role models in the illustration and publishing industries could potentially deter children of colour from reading, not to mention pursuing careers in those fields.

A recently published follow-up report states that in 2019, 8.68 per cent of children’s book creators (authors and illustrators) were people of colour and they created just over seven per cent of titles published that year. The number of creators of colour in publishing is increasing, but painfully slowly, up from 7.17 per cent in 2018 and 5.58 per cent in 2017. But why is there such a lack of representation in children’s book publishing? It’s a multi-layered issue that begins in the hands of a commissioning editor, and gets handed back through illustration agency talent lists, to school education, and permeates families and culture. The fact is there are a scarce few Black, Asian and minority ethnic children’s book illustrators who are published. Yet there are many unpublished illustrators waiting for their break. While these reports and the Black Lives Matter movement this year have given some impetus to the issue and called on all publishers to try harder, it is going to take some serious work to shake up how this highly traditional industry goes about finding talent.

Dapo Adeola is one of the most prominent Black children’s book illustrators in the UK, even though he only made his breakthrough in 2019 co-creating and illustrating Look Up! with author Nathan Bryon. He says they created their main character, Rocket, without an awareness of the desperate need for non-white characters. They pitched the book in 2017 at Bologne book fair and had a whopping 14 offers from publishers, followed by a constant stream of attention. “At first it was great but then I was like, hang on, why are they giving me all the work? Why aren’t they trying to find the other Dapos?” he remembers. “Publishing can be lazy; if they find one thing that works, they all do the same thing.” Dapo says only when he started going to events and meeting his peers in the children’s book illustration world, did he notice “something was off... I was the only one who looked like me”.

This is echoed by fellow publisher Wonderbly, which makes personalised books for children. Beyond including the child’s name in the story in various clever ways, you can also choose an avatar for the main character that most resembles them in skin tone and hair colour. “If a child can see themselves [in a book] it makes the experience closer and more visceral,” says David Cadji-Newby, Wonderbly’s founder and creative director. “It’s a powerful tool that has a big impact on a person’s formative years and memories.”

David says he and his team realised the responsibility they held only after they published their first book Lost My Name, and quickly realised it was “morally right” to try to represent everyone, though that is an almost impossible challenge it continues to work towards. As of now, the publisher offers six “adventurers” in gradations of skin and hair tones, and is hoping to soon add more to the spectrum. “What we don’t want to happen is someone to say ‘that can’t be me’,” David says. “We want to inspire self-belief in any child.” Offering this choice means David believes they do “diversity by default” where no matter what the character looks like, the story doesn’t change. “We represent children of colour better than the mainstream can ever do. We don’t cater to any market, we are impartial, and everybody is treated the same. We just create the best story we can think of, then invite them in.”

Considering that fact, it is particularly appalling what illustrator Yasmeen Ismail reports to have been told in one of her feedback rounds on a book last year. “I’ve been told a character is too Black, and could I make her less Black. Are you effing kidding me?” she exclaims, stating that lack of diversity in the publishing industry is “rife”. Apparently, the unnamed publisher reasoned white families wouldn’t buy it, and that they didn’t want to alienate their white customers. Despite that horrendous anecdote, Yasmeen says the children’s book publishing industry is largely “full of heart” and while they have markets to consider, “for the good ones it’s not all about the bottom line”.

Born to a Chinese mum and South African Indian dad, Yasmeen grew up in a small Irish fishing village in the 80s in an entirely white Catholic population, and became subject to seemingly every slur you can think of. “People just can’t place me,” she chuckles, showing perhaps learned resilience. Despite that, Yasmeen has carved a successful career and doesn’t feel her background has held her back, but says “I look Asian. It must be very different to be Black. I haven’t experienced that ingrained racism.” She adds though that she, like many others, would “love to know if there’s a pay disparity”. With her work, Yasmeen says she always sets out to create diverse and inspiring stories and characters, taking very seriously her responsibility in the hands of a child. “I have been given a tiny microphone and it’s directly talking into that child’s face,” she says.

Meanwhile, there are numerous prizes and schemes being launched individually by publishers, but Dapo says he is sceptical this is enough. “Most companies are doing something in a performative manner,” he comments, “not just people going ‘hey we’re doing diversity.’ The industry wants it conditionally… it needs to change its approach, back it up with grassroots efforts. It’s not enough to have one prize, that reinforces this rhetoric about one person at a time. It has to be ongoing, not just for Black History Month, all year round, doing things with the community.” Dapo himself recently organised a Facebook group called the Black British Illustrators Network, with the aim of facilitating Black illustrators and imparting his knowledge. He adds that his apparent fame in the industry is “a burden I plan to put down. My plan is to kick the door down and let in as many people as I can, then leave and just go and make books about dragons and dinosaurs in peace”.

Onyinye is also cautiously optimistic. “This summer was encouraging, but I need to see that ongoing support to see if there has been a real change,” she says. “In the next couple of years, I want to see what is produced and published, and if there is diversity in the imagery and the people who draw them.” It’s vital not just for children to see themselves reflected but to feed their imagination and view on the world, and their place within it. “It’s important to have representation because there’s a level of aspiration the creative industry creates for young people,” Onyinye says. “We create different stories. The way we portray experiences and the nuances we can bring to a story and book has advantages not just for underrepresented children but for all.”