In Time For Us (DK Children, Sept.), a debut picture book written by author and activist Rebecca Walker, a busy Black mother and her young son spend valuable time together exploring nature and bonding over shared observations. Walker spoke with PW about the experience of writing a children's book, the challenges of providing boundless love while encouraging independence, and the art of making the most of small moments.

What made you decide to write a children’s book?

When my son was getting ready to leave home for college, I felt a longing to revisit, celebrate, and share some of our most precious moments from his childhood on Maui, where we spent a lot of time outdoors talking about trees and berries, the sky and the moon and the stars. I worked from home and was always on a deadline, but I tried to make sure we spent a bit of time together everyday doing something simple and pleasurable for both of us: taking a walk, blending a smoothie, jumping in the ocean. I wanted to remember those days, to somehow gift them back to us, at this major turning point in both of our lives. Since most of my writing is autobiographical, it somehow made sense to write a children’s book, to tell our story in a form as pure, poetic, and powerful as the moments themselves.

It also occurred to me that the idea of making "time for us,” even just 20 minutes a day, could be helpful for stressed-out parents who think that being a good parent means compromising your own work and peace of mind and spending tons of time playing on the floor with your kids doing who knows what. I wanted to remind parents that kids don’t care what you do as long as you're connecting. Last week, I asked my son to share some of his favorite memories from childhood, and he said: Going anywhere together, really.

Especially in the early years, but also beyond, your kids just want to be with you. I thought the book could be a good reminder of that, and the setting might give parents a break, too. Who doesn’t want to live in a gorgeous tropical paradise for twenty minutes?

Have you always felt a connection to the picture book form?

Yes! Apparently my first word was "book," and my house was full of them. I was an early reader—my parents say I was two when I started to read, but you know how parents are—and I remember reading picture books as my first form of self-play. Picture books were my first windows into the world outside of our house, and I am sure they contributed to my lifelong love of travel. I couldn’t wait to discover picture books with my son. Finding the ones we both liked was such a process of discovery; I loved to see the ones he chose again and again and to think about why. Finding the rhythm of each book was a big part of it, then seeing which ideas and characters resonated with him. I learned a lot about him through his choices, and he about me, I think.

As a writer, I have always been fascinated by the elements of the form and the discipline it requires. The economy of the text—how to keep it short but lyrical, simple but dynamic. How to message big, important ideas about the vast human experience in just a few words, the poetry of it all. I studied art history and think a lot about visual art and aesthetics, so illustration is obviously a huge part of it as well. In those early years, I discovered some wonderful illustrators I didn’t know—Donald Crews, for example, and Taro Gomi, Eric Rohmann, and Ezra Jack Keats. We loved Ellen Raskin’s Nothing Ever Happens on My Block... I could go on and on. The point is, I started paying attention to the power of illustration and realizing that picture books really have it all: you’re looking, listening, imagining. In Time For Us, you’re also smelling and tasting and feeling the breeze when Jackson and Mama are outside in the garden.

How can reading a picture book help strengthen the bond between child and caregiver?

Some of my favorite memories from childhood are sitting on my father’s lap, listening to his deep voice read whatever book I had pulled off the shelf. I felt so safe, protected, loved. I hope I gave that to my son and that he passes it on to children in his life, biological or chosen.

The picture book inhabits such a sacred space in the parent-child universe. When you read a picture book with a child, you carve out a space that belongs only to the two of you. It’s quiet, you’re close, you’re going on a magical journey together, discovering new worlds and who you are within them. There is a sense of transmission: the parent reads the book aloud and then, eventually, the child chimes in with their favorite lines, and then it’s like you are singing different parts of the same song, a song you’ve kind of written together over the days and weeks and months you’ve read it. The repetition is part of it, the way the reading becomes a ritual of coming together and sharing an experience. So much happens around the book—it’s just the beginning of the story. The voice of the author, my voice, is just a bridge to the voices of the readers. The hearts of the readers.

I hope every parent who reads Time For Us experiences and passes on that feeling of safety, protection, and love. I get very emotional thinking about the whole thing, actually—the idea of becoming a part of the parent-child relationship in this way is very moving to me.

Time spent between a mother and her child is invaluable, but a child’s discovery of personal autonomy is also important. How do you suggest parents achieve this balance as they are raising their children?

I also wanted to write this book because I see so many parents having trouble setting boundaries with their kids and thought this story could be supportive of them in that space, too. I think it’s good to set the expectation for what we called “self-play” in our home. The basic idea is: I’m your mom, not a toy. I believe it’s important to support independence by making room for your child to explore their own mind and discover their own inner landscape. It serves them well as they grow up, I think; they know you support their individuation because you’ve honored it from a very young age.

It’s about cultivating mutual respect between parent and child. Kids come to understand that parents have their own feelings and needs, and parents realize that kids, when left alone, are able to more freely develop in a way that is unique to them. I learned so much from directing my son back to himself. Seeing his choices gave me so much insight into his strengths, and the facets of his personality. I remember looking up to find he had built a house of cards so large it covered the living room floor! Once he built a tower as tall as he was, with a car wash at the very top, complete with a line of cars. That’s when I realized how much he loved going to the car wash together, that the time we spent going through the sponges and wipers was peak for him!

What can you share about Maria Diaz Perera’s illustrations? In what ways does the art complement and accentuate your words?

I cannot say enough about how much I love and cherish Maria’s work. We had a wonderful time together. I shared tons of photographs of us on Maui and gave her lots of notes about the spirit of our relationship and also about skin color and hair texture because that stuff can be so tricky, and she took it all in and, through some kind of alchemical miracle, delivered it back in its full-blown glory! She managed to infuse all the love, beauty, and magic of our story into her illustrations. When I saw the spread of Mama and Jackson walking into the garden holding hands, I cried. When I saw the cover, I gasped. Each time I got a new spread, I texted it to everyone I love, with all kinds of emojis. I’m sure my friends think the book came out last year, they’ve seen so many spreads over the last months.

It’s a cliché but also true: Maria brought my words to life. She made my story better, bigger, truer, and more beautiful. I am so grateful to have found her. May we create a hundred books together.

What are two tips or reassurances you would give to ease “mom-guilt” for those with young children?

Mom-guilt is fundamentally negative. It’s got nothing good for you or your child other than a big, unhelpful dose of feeling inadequate. BANISH IT. LET IT GO. FORGET MOMMY GUILT LIKE A BAD DREAM.

The truth is, you don’t have to bake cakes or arrange dance classes or draw for hours to be a good mom. You can do just about anything, as long as you’re together. I asked my son yesterday to tell me a few of his favorite memories from childhood and he said riding in the car to the orthodontist! Crazy, I know. But really, as long as you’re not a screaming hot mess, your presence is enough.

It seems obvious, but taking care of yourself by setting good boundaries with your child makes a happier you and, even if it doesn’t seem like it in the moment, a happier and more self-reliant future adult human. Encouraging self-play prompts kids to look inward and discover what their own minds have to teach them.

Guiding our kids to discover their unique interests and passions, talents and gifts, is a huge part of parenting. It’s a lot easier for them to find their own path when they know you support the journey.

How did you tackle guilt-free parenting with your son? Can you give us one or two examples?

My son was just six weeks old when I boarded a plane for Stockholm to speak about a new book, and it was full on from there. At home, I spent hours and hours at my desk, and two or three times a month I was on the road for days speaking, teaching, or promoting a new project. I felt pangs of guilt—usually when loading my suitcase into the car for the airport—but reminded myself I was leaving him in good hands and showing him what it looks like to be a citizen of the world, a dream I held for him and an identity he has taken on!

I also realized that what I called guilt was just plain old missing, and it went both ways. This opened up more language to talk about what was actually happening when I couldn’t be with him and started a powerful conversation about the potential of both presence and absence that continues to this day.

What are two tips to get kids interested in the outdoors and introduce them to gardening and the importance of a sustainable environment?

We lived on Maui when my son was small, so we swam in the ocean, walked barefoot through the grass, raised chickens, and lived in the shadow of a huge volcano—we were always outside, so I didn’t have to work too hard to get him interested.

I did talk to him constantly about the beauty that surrounded us and that surrounds us all in the country or the city. I taught him the names of flowers and trees and always pointed out birds and blossoms, warm breezes and rain clouds.

I also made sure he had sensory, tactile experiences with the earth. I planted a hay bale garden (a fiasco!) and gave him a little hoe to do his part. I made sure the chickens ate out of his hand. We drew pictures with squished ink from berries we found in our backyard.

Sometimes we forget to wake kids up to what’s all around them. You don’t have to go hiking or plant a huge garden, just notice the changing colors of the sky or wonder about the different shapes and smells of fruit at the grocery store. Just talk about water: where does it come from? Imagine rivers, streams, reservoirs.

I heard somewhere that a lot of kids think milk comes from cartons. We can do better. It’s all about helping them pay attention to what matters. Ask your kids: how do you feel when you drink water? How do you feel when you smell a flower? Isn’t the sky amazing?

Like Jackson in Time for Us, kids like to know stuff. Why not teach them what’s most important? The sky is free. Teach them that it belongs to them, and it’s theirs to protect.

What are three mindfulness activities inspired by the book that you can do with your child?

Take a walk. Go outside and talk about all the natural things you see. Even a tiny weed coming from a crack in the sidewalk. You may feel silly, but make a big deal out of it. Isn’t that little plant incredible? It’s like you, growing up in the middle of the city! How does it do that? How do YOU do that?

Plant something, anything. And if you can’t do that, plan to plant something. Let’s grow something! What should we grow? Do you think our house has enough sun? Where could we put it? How often would we water it? Just dreaming about planting is a powerful way to foster a relationship with the natural world.

Relax your body. Lay towels or mats on the floor and relax every part of your bodies, one by one. Tighten your toes, and let them go. Squinch up your face and let it go. Squeeze your arm muscles and let them go. ON and on and until every part is let go. Take a deep breath and float. Then go take a bath and go to bed!