Brandy Colbert: Hi, my name is Brandy Colbert. I am the author of The Only Black Girls in Town. I wanted to write The Only Black Girls in Town because I grew up in Springfield, Missouri, which is part of the Ozarks and it's a predominantly white town. When I was growing up, it was about 3% black. So, I did not see many people who looked like me except for my family or when I went to church every Sunday because we went to a black church. And so when I started thinking about writing my first middle grade, I asked a friend, "Has there ever been a novel where there was a black girl in town and she was the only one. And then another one moves into town right across the street?" And she said, "No, I don't think so." So I said, "Oh, that's my book."

In The Only Black Girls in Town I wanted to explore the friendship of Alberta and Edie, who moved in across the street from Alberta, who is used to being the only black girl her age. And so when Edie moves in, she thinks maybe they'll become fast friends, but they're actually quite different. And then their friendship is cemented around some journals that they find in their attics. They're historical journals from the 1950s and 1960s. And I really wanted to take that chance to weave in some black history into the book because as the girls in the book say, their teachers don't do a very good job of teaching black history. And that was my experience too. So I wanted to weave in some history into this friendship story and also show how the girls were able to strengthen their bonds. And now I'd like to read a short excerpt from The Only Black Girls in Town.

"Don't you think we should go meet the neighbors this morning? They might be busy in the afternoon." I shovel a spoonful of Cheerios into my mouth. My dad, Elliott sits down with a plate of avocado toast. "You two seem awfully invested in these new neighbors. Do you know something about them that I don't? Are they superheroes? A family of mind readers?" "They're black", I say, and I think that should be enough of an explanation, but Elliott still looks confused. "Just because they're black doesn't mean they're going to be our new best friends", he says slowly. "We don't know anything about them." But I don't want to have another weird conversation about being black. Not that it would be the same as when I was talking to Laramie, but sometimes Elliott and Dad disagree when they talk about race. I always feel like I have to choose sides, even though I thought we were all on the same team.

"Go on, Al", Elliott encourages. "Well, when we go to parties and bonfires, you and Dad always go up to the black people first. Sometimes you spend almost the whole night talking to them. Or if you see black people you don't even know when we're downtown, you nod at them. Like you're already friends. Isn't this sort of like that?"

"Huh." Elliott drinks his coffee. "I see what you mean. But I don't want you putting expectations on people. We might have more in common with, say, the McKees than the new neighbors." I make a face into my cereal. Bad example. We have absolutely nothing in common with our neighbors, the McKees, and Elliott knows it. Dad comes up behind him and slides a hand onto his shoulder. "I think what your dear father is trying to say is that all our skinfolk ain't kinfolk." "What?" Elliot's hand reaches up to meet Dad's and squeezes. "Yes, exactly. Just because we're black and the new neighbors are black doesn't mean we have the same values or interests." But," Dad adds, "it's always a good idea to reach out to your skinfolk, especially when they're new in the community. And especially when there are barely any of us here in the first place."