A son recounts all the ways his father showed his love in this bilingual children’s book.
The dads in the storybooks of today often show complete command of their emotions and are endlessly forthcoming with their pride, vulnerability, and support. But author and illustrator Silva reminds readers in this book’s introduction that for plenty of dads of an older generation, or dads who weren’t raised in the American middle class, “it can be hard to openly share their feelings or bond with their kids” in the ways Western society believes they should. This children’s book is a love letter to fathers like the author’s, who prefer to use actions rather than gifts or words to convey the depth of their feelings. The text follows a consistent structure of two lines starting with “my Father said he loves me…” in both English and Spanish, accompanied by a digital illustration. Silva depicts a chronology of a working-class Mexican-American father and his son from the child’s birth through childhood. The narrative marks milestones like haircuts, working, and birthdays, with many illustrations pointing to agricultural work as well as traditional Mexican food, music, and decor; these represent declarations of love through hard work, sacrifice, and cultural pride, with the father showing his devotion through “his backbreaking work” and “the music he played.” The digital illustrations often have a photographic quality, which effectively enhances the book’s theme of memory.
Silva’s poignant and personal story offers a perspective on a kind of paternal love that is often misinterpreted; he writes in the afterword that “My Father said…he loved me…although not with words…now I know how much he cared.” His vibrant, 2-D art style conveys the idea that his life is full of dynamic love (despite not hearing the words) in a variety of domestic scenes, like bedrooms, kitchens, and family trips in the car; homes are decorated with colorful walls, paper banners, Catholic elements (like crosses), and photographs. The most compelling visual elements, however, are the pastoral depictions of the “backbreaking work” that the father does to sustain his family. Silva uses long lines that bisect the pages to represent the fields he and his family worked in, rendered in shades of green, brown, and orange to emphasize their importance. There are some subtle cues about class and the sacrifices made by those living the immigrant experience, perhaps most acutely in the image of “calloused working hands,” coarse with abrasions, over a planting field. A family scene in the car shows that the protagonist has other siblings and a mother, thus implying love in other forms, but this narrative is squarely an homage to his relationship with his father—his namesake—and the story of how he was taught how to love in turn. Children raised differently can learn a new love language from Silva’s tale, and children native to either language will get the words to appreciate how love may or may not manifest in their families.
A tender portrait of paternal love in its many varieties.