An interview about The Light of Home with Hoda Hadadi and Diana Farid.
In a heartfelt conversation about The Light of Home, Diana Farid reaches across continents to her collaborator, telling Hadadi, “You walk the same ground and see the same mountains that my parents, grandparents, and the generations of my family as far back as I know have walked — places I have never been to or seen myself.”
Hadadi shares how deeply personal this project became: “It was impossible to say no to this story because of how many knots and links it had with my life—past and present—in Iran.” She explains, “being a woman in Iran, even after half a century, is inherently a kind of minority status. And if you happen to follow a different religion or belief, you become a minority within a minority.”
Their collaboration led to remarkable moments of serendipity. When Farid first saw Hadadi’s illustration of a family picnic scene with a grandmother figure with a hookah, she discovered that Hadadi had unknowingly captured her own family history. Their shared Iranian heritage infuses the artwork with cultural touchstones. Both artists speak passionately about uplifting women’s voices. As Hadadi puts it, “I see it as my duty, not just as an artistic responsibility, but as someone who knows how to give a voice to certain people through art. And those people are the girls and women who speak less. I can speak on their behalf.”
Diana Farid: Hoda, I couldn’t have ever imagined that I would be connected with an artist in Iran to create a book together. And now, here it is out in the world, our The Light of Home. You walk the same ground and see the same mountains that my parents, grandparents, and the generations of my family as far back as I know have walked — places I have never been to or seen myself. It’s an honor to have been paired with you to bring this book to life, to have your art illuminate this story I heard while growing up, and so many of us are surrounded by, of having to leave a home, and a place you love, and how to find that sense of home again through art making. Thank you for bringing beauty and heart to the exquisite collage art you created for The Light of Home!
Hoda Hadadi (HH): Before anything else, I want to say how much I enjoyed reading Nur’s story. It made me feel both sad and happy, hopeless and hopeful at the same time. It made me think again about the importance of art. Here, before answering the questions, I want to thank you. You brought an important and human event to the audience in a poetic and childlike way. Without your story, I would have never thought of this poetic aspect of how art works in the life of an immigrant. I was very fortunate to have the opportunity to read your story and illustrate it, and I want to take this moment to thank you and the publisher.
I too am so grateful that Scholastic, and specifically my editor, Katie Heit, took this project under their care. What motivated you to say “yes” to this project? As an acclaimed artist and illustrator, you must have your pick of projects. So, I’d love to hear what inspired you to take this one on and include it in your busy schedule.
HH: I must say that I usually choose stories where the main character is a young girl or a woman because I relate to them more deeply. This time, the girl was a compatriot, which drew me even more. Her story takes place in years that I remember well—years of hardship that affected all the people of Iran, especially the pain endured by minorities. And as you know, being a woman in Iran, even after half a century, is inherently a kind of minority status. And if you happen to follow a different religion or belief, you become a minority within a minority. The struggle and escape of this minority is something I may not have experienced myself, but I have felt it deeply with my whole being.
It was impossible to say no to this story because of how many knots and links it had with my life—past and present—in Iran. Beyond all of this, the story was incredibly gentle. The subject is harsh, but the narrative is tender. You skillfully bridged this contrast, taking us from a space filled with violence and pain to the peace of art, acceptance, continuity, and hope.
It’s amazing to hear how deeply it connected with you. Speaking of immediately connecting, the cover of The Light of Home is captivating. I’m in love with the way you created movement in the water and layers in the moonlit night. How did you decide on the materials you would use for the cover scene and what feelings did you want to convey for the cover?
HH: For the cover design, I really wanted to convey a sense of peace and dreams—the very things that art gives us: serenity and the ability to visualize our dreams. I’m not sure how successful I was, but that was my intention, and I hope the children will like it.
As for the technique, it’s naturally collage, which I’ve been working with for many years. Especially when it comes to illustrating poetic narratives, I use delicate cutouts and layered colors to depict transparency and light. I loved that the character’s name in this book is Nur (light), and throughout the book, I tried to showcase light in various ways.
When I saw so many of the first pieces of art for the book, I cried. For example, when I first saw the details you included in the family picnic at the beach scene, I noticed the grandmother figure, with a hookah. What amazed me, and continues to amaze me, is that you could not have known that my own great-grandmother had this habit. My mother tells me it’s how my great-grandmother coped with the loss of her husband to religious prejudice based violence, leaving her to raise four young children on her own. Somehow, over half a world away, you put my great-grandmother into this art! As you decided to include certain imagery in this spread, what were you remembering as you detailed each of these characters so authentically and beautifully?
HH: That’s so fascinating, what you’re saying right now—I truly don’t know what to say. Hearing this, I feel so emotional. I simply drew from my own memories, from the family picnics we used to have, observing people, seeing families, elders, and young people together. I was only thinking about those things because, just as it may feel nostalgic for you, it’s nostalgic for me too.
Life has changed so much over the years—it’s no longer the way I remember it from my childhood. I tried to bring those moments back to life, and I’m so happy to know that it connected and resonated with the lived experiences of your family during those times.
Me too! We share the lived experience of a love for books also. Here in the United States, where I live, books are increasingly under attack, and being removed from children’s library and school bookshelves, limiting the access children have to diverse stories. I never mentioned books in my manuscript, and yet you again somehow knew that it was important to me that I was telling a story rarely shared, that stories in Iran and all over the world are being destroyed and erased, and that we need to think about the implications of that. As the main character, Nur, lays in her bed and dreams of the seashore, she is holding a book. A few scenes later, when her home is raided and ransacked, a book lays on the floor. Can you tell us more about these books and why you included them in the images?
HH: What you said about books being removed from libraries is deeply saddening, and I didn’t know about it. When designing Nur’s character, I drew once again from my own childhood. I, too, was a child who loved to draw, who wasn’t very outgoing. I was introverted, quiet, and shy, always expressing myself through drawing. I also read constantly.
I imagined that Nur must be a child like that too—someone who draws a lot and loves to read. That’s why I placed a bookshelf in her room and books on her bed. I remember always having a book in my hands, imagining things through its illustrations and stories. When Nur’s home is attacked, among the things that are trampled on, alongside the household belongings, there’s also a book—this source of imagination and thought gets destroyed.
It’s such a heartbreaking reality, and one that we’ve all felt in some way. Yes, Nur is a book-loving child, and I hope that what you said about reading finds a solution somehow.
I know a lot of people are working on that. It’s lovely to hear why you chose those images. When the team at Scholastic shared the art with me of people walking/escaping through mountains, we were stunned by the beauty of its colors and the drama and emotion it conveys. It’s one of my favorite images in the book. Can you describe some of your process in creating it?
HH: I imagined that this family is fleeing from the Caspian region—perhaps from Gilan or Mazandaran—towards the west. In my mind, their route likely passes through areas near Ardabil, heading towards the border of Iran and Azerbaijan. Of course, the book itself doesn’t specify their exact path, but this was my interpretation.
I thought about how the journey might take them through the rugged mountains of Ardabil and Tabriz, areas with dramatic rocky landscapes and unique formations. I visualized them moving secretly through these rocky mountains, and I used my memories of that geography to create the scene. I also included the sea in the background behind the mountains to hint at the geographical continuity between these two regions.
The area along the Caspian Sea bends; it’s not a straight line. It curves northward, and suddenly the flat, coastal area transitions into a rugged, mountainous landscape. This particular scene represents the point near the Iranian border with Azerbaijan, in terms of geography and the type of mountains.
As for the sunset, it has always felt melancholic to me. I feel like when people are forced to flee their homeland, they are always moving toward the sunset. And until they arrive, rebuild their lives, and feel welcomed by a new place that they can call home, the sunset lingers. For me, the journey continues under the shadow of the sunset until the moment of renewal and belonging.
That’s beautiful. Speaking of belonging, I find that scents and foods often connect us to a sense of comfort and home. In my school visits for The Light of Home, I bring rose water with me. I place a drop of it on each child’s hand, to smell and feel it. Most of them have never heard of rose water or experienced it. I love getting to share this beauty of Iran with them, how rose water is celebrated and used, especially during a time when many of the stories about Iran are negative. You beautifully captured some of the ingredients and foods Persians love in the illustrations, like rose water. What are some of your favorite things that you got to detail in your art for this book, and how do they convey the resilience and optimism that children, really all of us, need to have to bring about a better world?
HH: Yes, I saw your picture where you gave rose water to the children, pouring it on the palms of their hands. It was so touching, so heartfelt. I really appreciate it, and I also love the idea of introducing Iranian cuisine and gastronomy in all your books and journeys. One of the things we can truly be proud of is our style of cooking, which I believe is very healthy, very natural, and deeply connected to nature. Extracting the essence of plants and achieving strong flavors and scents is part of our culture. I am proud of Iranian saffron, Iranian pistachios, and Iranian rosewater and flowers. Wherever I can, I promote this not only as food but as an interaction with nature, showing how we knew how to draw out color, flavor, and fragrance from nature. I express this through my art or writing, and in most of my poems, I reference these flavors and colors. Of course, your story also made references to this, and all I had to do was capture those references and showcase the beauty of Iranian food in this book. Although I feel it was still quite subtle, it had to be mentioned, and I am grateful to you for that.
I am grateful to you, too. I have to mention our author’s and illustrator’s notes. I think they are a vital addition to this story. You and I both are motivated in our art to uplift the voice and value of girls and women. Thank you for the words you’ve given us here. I was especially struck by how you connected with Nur and when you write: “For people like Nur, art is a way of speaking.” You were not only speaking about yourself, and all artists, but me. When I read it, I still tear up. This isn’t really a question, but a call for readers to explore your art on your Instagram page and be inspired by it. Is there anything that these comments bring up for you that you want to add here?
HH: Yes, the author’s and illustrator’s notes are truly the essence of their effort and feelings about the work, and we’ve both discussed this. I see it as my duty, not just as an artistic responsibility, but as someone who knows how to give a voice to certain people through art. And those people are the girls and women who speak less. I can speak on their behalf. I hold this responsibility dear to me, and I’m very happy that I have the passion to tell the stories of many women and girls whose voices are seldom heard, through illustration. That’s it.
What are some of your favorite books for children by other authors and/or illustrators that share our Persian heritage? Here are some of mine:
- Seven Special Somethings: A Nowruz Story, written by Adib Khorram and illustrated by Zainab Faidhi
- Rumi – Poet of Joy and Love, written and illustrated by Rashin Kheiriyeh
- The One and Only Googoosh: Iran’s Beloved Superstar, written and illustrated by Azadeh Westergaard
HH: I am not aware of any children’s books in English about Iranian heritage. This might be due to either my own lack of knowledge, or perhaps a gap in the global publishing market, where this subject hasn’t been adequately explored. It could also be that fewer authors have focused on this topic. However, my constant recommendation to children who want to learn about Iran is to read the Shahnameh by Ferdowsi, and works by poets like Khayyam, Saadi, and Hafez, all of which have been translated into English.
I personally began reading the Shahnameh at the age of ten. It is a story of the history of Iranian kings from the beginning of time until the Islamic period, filled with tales of heroes, ethics, wisdom, and life lessons. I believe there is a Shahnameh version in a pop-up format published in the U.S., written by Mr. Hamid Rahmanian. Of course, translations of Hafez, Saadi, and Khayyam are also available. While these works may seem difficult for adults, I think they can resonate with all ages, as I connected with these poems when I was a child. I believe these words can speak to children all around the world, making our authentic culture accessible in a clearer, more engaging way. My advice is to explore the timeless, classic Iranian literature that never grows old.
I am excited about the book I am currently working on about saffron, written by Esar Farah Mirtaouosi, which will be published by an Iranian publisher, Mirma. The story is very delicate, sweet, and feminine, revolving around the cultivation and harvesting of saffron.
As for our book, thank you for reminding me of this historical period, for inspiring the creation of this book, and I also thank the dear publisher, Scholastic, for printing it. I hope that no child ever experiences having to leave their home. I know this wish is quite unlikely, but it remains a hope, and it is our hopes and dreams that keep us alive. I wish you, your family, and the whole world many good days ahead.
Thank you, dear Hoda! I’ve loved making this book with you, and creating this beautiful connection across mountains and oceans and hearts. To good days ahead!
About the Book
The Light of Home: A story of family, creativity, and belonging
Written by Diana Farid
Illustrated by Hoda Hadadi
Ages: 4-8 | 40 Pages
Publisher: Orchard Books (2024) | ISBN-13: 978–1338890617
Publisher’s Book Summary: A universal story about displacement, migration, and the many ways we find home, from the talented author-illustrator team of Diana Farid and Hoda Hadadi.
Nur has always loved her home by the sea, where water glimmers along a straight horizon.
But when Nur and her family are forced to leave, they begin a long journey to an unfamiliar place. Here the horizon curves and twists, and the moonlight no longer glitters across the water. For Nur, nothing in this new place feels like home.
Then one day, Nur’s mother brings her a new set of paintbrushes. Nur’s brushstrokes help her connect the place she’s lost to this new horizon, and she finds home again through her own creativity and heart.
The Light of Home will resonate with anyone who has ever had to leave a place they’ve loved.
From author, poet, and physician Diana Farid and artist Hoda Hadadi comes this introspective story about belonging and the power of creativity. For readers of Yuyi Morales’ Dreamers and Yamile Saied Mendez and Jaime Kim’s Where Are You From?
Buy the Book
About the Author
Diana Farid is an award-winning author and poet. Her picture book, When You Breathe, was a National Council of Teachers of English Notable poetry book. Her novel in verse, Wave, was the 2022 Cybils Award winner for poetry novel and a School Library Journal Best Middle Grade Book. She is also a physician and associate professor of medicine at Stanford University.
To learn more, visit dianafarid.com.
About the Illustrator
Hoda Hadadi is a children’s books illustrator living and working in Tehran, Iran. She has illustrated more than forty books for children and has won numerous international prizes, including the New Horizons Bologna Ragazzi Award and the Grand Prix of Belgrade.
To learn more, visit hoda-hadadi.com.
This interview—Finding Light Through Art: Diana Farid and Hoda Hadadi Discuss Their Iranian-American Children’s Book ‘The Light of Home’—was conducted between Diana Farid and Hoda Hadadi.
