Anton enjoys writing stories that make children laugh. His stories explore themes of self-identity, family relationships and friendship, drawing from his experiences of being black with light-skin, growing up in a large adoptive family and raising four children.
Anton first became interested in writing for children while teaching Health and Physical Education and English at a high school in Mount Isa, but it would be many years before he put pencil to paper. That day arrived when he was shopping for a book to buy his daughter for her birthday. Browsing through children’s books he decided it was time he followed his heart. Over the next decade Anton wrote three children’s books while completing post graduate studies in public health, working as a university lecturer, and raising four children – phew! Alas, none of these books were published but they developed Anton’s love for storytelling and were important steps to him becoming a published children’s author. At the moment, Anton’s other job is a health researcher at a university. The job involves a lot of thinking, reading, and writing, but his passion is writing funny and thought-provoking stories for children.
Anton’s debut novel, To and Fro, will be published by Allen & Unwin in March 2024.
Anton lives in Brisbane, Australia.
I was adopted into a family of five children when I was a toddler. The family grew to ten children and I grew up with seven sisters and two brothers. My family was warm and loving and never treated me differently because I was adopted, but I felt different and often wondered where I came from. A big part of the reason I felt different was because I didn’t look like my adoptive brothers and sisters or anybody I knew. I was told I had a Black African dad and white mum, but because I was light skinned most people saw me as the white kid with fuzzy hair, so that is how I saw myself too.
In primary school I loved reading and playing sport. I enjoyed reading adventure, mystery and war stories, even encyclopedias. I probably could have been a reading star if there was such a thing but there wasn’t so I set my sights on becoming a sports star. My favourite sports team was the West Indies Cricket Team and my favourite sports stars were the boxer Muhammed Ali and soccer player Pelé. I saw myself in the faces of these black athletes and other black people I saw in magazines and on TV.
I was good at playing backyard cricket with a tennis ball but at school I was so afraid of the hard cricket ball I ran away from it. This made batting and fielding impossible so I turned my attention to soccer. I was good enough to make the B grade soccer team and could have been captain of the C team had there been one, but stopped playing after getting smacked in the face with the ball and being knocked out cold. Strangely, I then set my sights on becoming a boxer like Muhammed Ali but after watching two kids box each other about the ears at my local Police Citizens Youth Club (PCYC), I decided to be a fan of boxing instead.
When I was 13-years-old I got told that I was a Torres Strait Islander. The Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander kids in my high school welcomed me and I found myself a part of two groups: the white group of friends I hung out with daily and the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander student group I met up with once a week. I didn’t openly acknowledge my black identity among my white group of friends but embraced it when I was with my Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander student group. Throughout high school I gradually became more comfortable embracing my black identity in different social groups. I continued to play sports, (now I aspired to be a champion middle distance runner like Joaquim Cruz and play basketball like Michael Jordan). Unfortunately I had to settle for being awarded the ‘Most Improved Player’ on my basketball team and a champion food runner in a Greek restaurant. After high school, I completed an education degree at university and was part of a strong and active Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander student community which made me feel comfortable and safe to be proud of my black identity.
But then my world and identity changed again. When I was a young man with three children I connected with my birth parents: a white Australian woman living in Brisbane and a Mosotho man from Lesotho. I didn’t know anything about Lesotho but I learned that it is a landlocked country surrounded by South Africa within which the Basotho people have lived since the fifth century. Although I was shocked and surprised to discover that I was not a Torres Strait Islander, I was thrilled to finally meet my birth parents and know for sure where I come from.
My debut novel, To and Fro, draws on some of my experiences of growing up light skinned with a black identity. But as the saying goes, ‘truth is stranger than fiction’, so Sam’s story is a little less strange than mine, but no less important to tell. Sam and I hope you enjoy it.
I was adopted into a family of five children when I was a toddler. The family grew to ten children and I grew up with seven sisters and two brothers. My family was warm and loving and never treated me differently because I was adopted, but I felt different and often wondered where I came from. A big part of the reason I felt different was because I didn’t look like my adoptive brothers and sisters or anybody I knew. I was told that I had a Black African dad and white Australian mum, but because I was light skinned most people saw me as the white kid with fuzzy hair, so that is how I saw myself too.
In primary school I loved reading and playing sport. I enjoyed reading adventure, mystery and war stories, even encyclopedias. I probably could have been a reading star if there was such a thing but there wasn’t so I set my sights on becoming a sports star. My favourite sports team was the West Indies Cricket Team and my favourite sports stars were the boxer Muhammed Ali and soccer player Pelé. I saw myself in the faces of these black athletes and other black people I saw in magazines and on TV.
I was good at playing backyard cricket with a tennis ball but at school I was so afraid of the hard cricket ball I ran away from it. This made batting and fielding impossible so I turned my attention to soccer. I was good enough to make the B grade soccer team and could have been captain of the C team had there been one, but stopped playing after getting smacked in the face with the ball and being knocked out cold. Strangely, I then set my sights on becoming a boxer like Muhammed Ali but after watching two kids box each other about the ears at my local Police Citizens Youth Club (PCYC), I decided to be a fan of boxing instead.
When I was 13-years-old I got told that I was a Torres Strait Islander. The Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander kids in my high school welcomed me and I found myself a part of two groups: the white group of friends I hung out with daily and the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander student group I met up with once a week. I didn’t openly acknowledge my black identity among my white group of friends but embraced it when I was with my Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander student group. Throughout high school I gradually became more comfortable embracing my black identity in different social groups. I continued to play sports, (now I aspired to be a champion middle distance runner like Joaquim Cruz and play basketball like Michael Jordan). Unfortunately I had to settle for being awarded the ‘Most Improved Player’ on my basketball team and a champion food runner in a Greek restaurant. After high school, I completed an education degree at university and was part of a strong and active Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander student community which made me feel comfortable and safe to be proud of my black identity.
But then my world and identity changed again. When I was a young man with three children I connected with my birth parents: a white Australian woman living in Brisbane and a Mosotho man from Lesotho. I didn’t know anything about Lesotho but I learned that it is a landlocked country surrounded by South Africa within which the Basotho people have lived since the fifth century. Although I was shocked and surprised to discover that I was not a Torres Strait Islander, I was thrilled to finally meet my birth parents and know for sure where I come from.
My debut novel, To and Fro, draws on these many experiences of being black with light skin. But as the saying goes, ‘truth is stranger than fiction’, so Sam’s story is a little less strange than mine, but no less important to tell. Sam and I hope you enjoy it.
Anton would love to hear from you. Drop him a line here
To enquire about booking Anton for a speaking event, or to have him visit your school, please contact Booked out speakers agency online or email them directly at bookings@bookedout.com.au
