The illustrator behind my book, the classroom reaction I didn’t see coming.

Brandon D. Campbell
Feb 13

This episode is about more than art. It’s about partnership. It’s about intentional storytelling. And it’s about how visuals can help children feel safe enough to have the conversations many families avoid.

To everyone who attended my sold-out book release, I am deeply grateful. Seeing my family, friends, and supporters gathered in one space to celebrate Oh Brother, My Brother was emotional in ways I didn’t fully anticipate. There’s something powerful about watching a vision that started in your heart become real and shared. 

I celebrated with my mother and father at my first book release event for Oh Brother, My Brother. This week, I had the honor of visiting Baker Elementary School to read to Mrs. Campbell-Berry’s music class for Black History Month. When I held up the very first page and illustration of the book, a student blurted out, “This is going to be a good book!” 

Before I read a single word.

That moment reminded me why details matter. Why illustrations matter. Why representation matters.

I read my story, "Oh Brother, My Brother" at Baker Elementary School
And that brings me to this week’s podcast episode.

For the first time, I welcomed a guest to the Brandon D. Campbell Podcast—Shanzay Saquib, the illustrator behind Oh Brother, My Brother. Shanzay is based in Pakistan, and despite being 11 hours ahead, we built a creative partnership rooted in communication, trust, and shared vision.

What drew her to this project wasn’t just the storyline—it was the healing and resilience within it. She recognized that this book was meant to be more than pages and pictures. It was designed to be a bridge between parents and children, especially with the reflection questions at the end meant to spark deeper conversations.

One of the most powerful parts of our collaboration was the intentionality behind the characters. The church scene became one of her favorites. For me, the illustration of Ohmar sitting emotionally on the bench stands out. Those images carry weight.

We also had important conversations about cultural accuracy—hairstyles, urban neighborhoods, and the Black church experience. Shanzay didn’t just draw; she researched. She leaned in. She connected with the story from a place of respect.

Her advice to authors? Find an illustrator who connects with your story, not just your style, and then trust their creative process. Magic happens when collaboration replaces control. 

Her advice to aspiring illustrators? Start where you are. Don’t wait for perfection. Try different styles. Challenge yourself.

The stories we tell, and how we tell them, matter.