The Inspiration Behind
Señora Sanasana
And I continue to live in community with my family to this day. I live in a rambling old house that my husband, our four kids and dog share with Abuelito and Abuelita, as their grandkids call them. My mom even helped me with the dishes and shucked the corn for dinner when she noticed I was stressed about the looming deadline for this column. I am rich in the kind of community care many Latino communities are built on, and it’s helped me thrive as a mother and author. This kind of supportive environment is also the inspiration behind Señora Sanasana, the protagonist of my kids’ book, who is a lively and beautiful model of community care.
La señora is a Peruvian elder who lives on the top floor of a highrise in a big city. Each day she opens her magical home to the children of the building. She feeds them Peruvian treats after school, dances and plays with them and returns them safely to their families when the work day is done. She is the extended family, the trustworthy caregiver our immigrant families needed. She is the loving tia, the hilarious older friend many of us grew up with. Señora Sanasana represents both my cultural experience of being raised in community, as well as my dream of a world in which all children and families experience that kind of support.
Ashlee Campbell is a poet and writer who spends most of her time cooking for people. A mother and foster parent of four kids aged four to 16, Campbell is raising her crowd with her husband in Toronto — a city she didn’t grow up in but has adopted as her heart-home. She grew up across the globe, born to a Peruvian mama and Canadian dad in Niamey, Niger. Campbell has also lived in Haiti, El Salvador, Honduras, Mali, Chad, Malawi, South Africa, Germany, and Canada.
By Ashlee Campbell
I grew up in a loving, multicultural, two-parent home. But it still took a village, as the saying goes, to raise me to the woman I am today.
My Peruvian mother and Canadian father gave their three daughters unconditional love and global adventures as my father’s work took us to dozens of countries in Central America, and Western and Southern Africa over the course of my childhood. Being far from either of their homelands meant my parents had to create extended family wherever we went. We met people from all over the world who became our surrogate grandparents and aunties, our adopted primos and tios. My mom, leaning on the strong bonds of her Peruvian family, also invited her sister, mi Tia Tita, to live with us for long stretches of time when I was young. We would also alternate visiting Canada and Peru every few years to spend time with our large families. Sometimes those family ties felt tenuous because we lived so far away but each visit reinforced that love can overcome many miles and even more days of separation.
So I grew up rich in family and community care. Which continued into my young adult years. As a nervous and struggling university student, my older sister welcomed me into her home. Along with raising her own young family, she supported me as I found my footing living in Canada for the first time at 18. Shefulfilled the role so many Latina eldest sisters play, of going first and making the way easier for those of us lucky enough to come behind them.