Writing by Christopher Rivas
I couldn’t tell you why as a sophomore in college, I woke up one day (in my very very tiny dorm room) and decided to write a children’s book about conception. About being born a winner. About how, if you got here, to this moment, no matter how you got here, it and you are a miracle.
I wish I could say I was inspired by the nights previous activities but I think more so, I was let down by the nights previous activities. I have always had a predisposition towards sadness, towards waking up with this pit in my gut, this feeling like something is off, like something else should be happening. It can be exhausting to not want to be here, to not want to arrive in this moment.
And so in that exhaustion, with that exhaustion I found some space and some clarity to remember that I don’t need to be more than this, that this is pretty exceptional. That I am exceptional. That a lot of things had to go right, so many things had to happen just as they did in order for me to be here right now. And that is a miracle. We are miracles.
My journey as an artist and storyteller has always been one of Enoughness. Uncovering and discovering and rediscovering my enoughness in a world that often can make us feel (way too easily and way too often) that we are not enough. That we aren’t enough unless we buy this product, or drink this juice, or take that supplement, or buy these pants, or take that workshop – capitalism telling us we need to buy more, have more, do more, and be more, more more more by any means necessary.
Anyway, I wrote the book in my dorm room, early in the morning, in about 15min during my sophomore year… When it was done, I simply stared at it and closed my laptop. I had no idea how to make a children’s book. No idea how to get published, but an intuitive whisper in me knew it was worth hanging on to. Fast forward, and Rowhouse published my first book, “Brown Enough” – where I explore what this feeling of being enough, enoughness and taking up space feels like as a Brown body in a Black / white and extremely binary world.
I knew Rowhouse had a children’s book imprint called, Wheat Penny Press, and I called the founder one day and said hey, “I have this children’s book that follows the story of a young swimming sperm who somehow finds a magical egg, who is then protected by the Uterus, and in-turn learns about self-confidence, perseverance, and the joy of existing. Want to bring it to life with me?”
They said yes.
“You’re a Good Swimmer,” is my antidote to those moments when I do not feel enough. I am reminded by the words and illustration in this beautiful book, that I am more than enough. If I am here, I am a miracle and I am enough, just as I am.
I hope this book not only entertains but empowers and inspires children and adults to believe in themselves and embrace their unique selves, just as they are. Our being here is the superpower. Our presence is the magic. And may we never forget that.
