I
traveled to Venezuela in 2006, but I was not allowed to enter Caracas, due to
turmoil in that city, so instead I went to Barquisimeto, the “city of music.” While
I was there, I enjoyed seeing the way poor children in shantytowns treasured
musical instruments, and practiced orchestral performances despite their
poverty.

By
the time I decided to write the verse picture book Dancing Hands: How Teresa
Carreño Played the Piano for President Lincoln, illustrated by Rafael López,
the cultural centers in Caracas had closed completely. Correspondence was
impossible. I had to depend on published sources instead of visits or interviews.

I
began by reading historical newsletters from the Teresa Carreño Cultural
Center, where Teresa was born. Documents from Special Collections at Vassar
College, where Teresa studied, were also an excellent source of information.

The
Hispanic Branch of the Library of Congress was helpful. But to my surprise, the
Lincoln Library had no information regarding Teresa’s performance for the
President. Apparently, he invited musicians to the White House so often that
the concerts were not photographed or depicted in art.

My
most complete reference was a set of interviews in the biography By the
Grace of God by Marta Milinowski. In those interviews, Teresa Carreño spoke
about an incident that became the focus of my manuscript. It was the moment
when young Teresa realized that Lincoln’s piano was not properly tuned. In the interviews,
she admitted that she hesitated. Should she finish the concert, at the risk of
sounding imperfect, or should she stop and cause an embarrassing scene in front
of her father and the President?

At
that instant of decision, Lincoln asked her if she knew his favorite song, ‘Listen
to the Mockingbird.’ She did know it, and playing it was a way to make Lincoln
happy, while distracting herself from the piano’s need for tuning.

Using
her own description of this event as the foundation of my poem, I showed how a
child who was already famous, and an adult who carried the weight of a nation
on his shoulders, could empathize with each other. For both Teresa and Lincoln,
that moment led to separate acts of kindness.

Poetry
is my favorite way to write, and poetry is a form of music. Rhythm, rhymes, and
other poetic approaches help me tell stories in a way that makes me feel happy,
no matter how many other emotions are included in a story. 

Along with historical facts and the joy of musical language, there is an entirely
unspoken and unwritten side to Dancing Hands. I wrote it a time when tens
of thousands of Cubans, including some of my relatives, were fleeing from
Venezuela and arriving at the Texas border as refugees, just
as Haitians are now. Those desperate walkers were feared, hated, insulted, and
persecuted by a ruler who pretended to admire Lincoln.

For
younger children, Dancing Hands is a simple poem about an inspiring
girl. For older readers, it is also a story about our own moments of decision
regarding matters of empathy and compassion. I hope they might notice the
contrast between Lincoln’s welcoming of Teresa at the White House, and the
caging of modern refugee children.

Margarita Engle is the Cuban-American
author of many verse novels, memoirs, and picture books, including The Surrender Tree, Enchanted Air,
Drum Dream Girl, and Dancing Hands. Awards include a Newbery
Honor, Pura Belpré, Golden Kite, Walter, Jane Addams, and NSK Neustadt, among
others. Margarita served as the national 2017-2019 Young People’s Poet
Laureate. Her most recent books include Light for All and Rima’s
Rebellion.