As so often happens on Twitter, I stumbled last week across the most intriguing tidbit:
This miniature biography of Ona Judge was just one among 28 stories of extraordinary black women highlighted throughout Black History Month by author Jason Reynolds. Never before had I heard this woman's name, much less the saga of her audacious, improbable, permanent escape from enslavement under George and Martha Washington. And, like many Americans, I'd never before been so blatantly confronted with the reality of slave ownership among our nation's Founding Fathers.
As a white woman in modern America, I would be hard-pressed to imagine a life more alien to mine than that of Ona Judge. Yet, in the aftermath of that one tweet, hers became a story I needed to know. Fortunately, just moments after wondering online about the outcome of Ona's escape, Erica Armstrong Dunbar appeared with the answer:
Turns out, Dr. Dunbar is the author of Never Caught, a Finalist for the National Book Award for Nonfiction. (Don't you just love the Internet?)
We read a lot these days about the importance of children seeing people like themselves in the books they read. That is so important. Books are the first, best place for kids to learn they are not alone in an overwhelming world. (Thank you, A Wrinkle in Time.) But the joyful synchronicity of this online exchange compels me to reaffirm the equal importance of kids -- and grownups -- reading books that are filled with people with whom they have little, if anything, in common.
I have a very specific fourth-grade memory of reading The Song of Bernadette, Franz Werfel's novel about St. Bernadette Soubirous and her visions of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Lourdes, France. Galvanized to action by a looming book report deadline, I found it amidst my mother's collection of Reader's Digest abridged books. Who could have predicted this chance encounter would spark a life-long interest in the Catholic faith to which I eventually would convert? Given that my great-grandfather helped found our local Lutheran church, that's quite a testament to the life-changing power of friendships formed in a book.
Occasionally, as a reading teacher, I've been led by my students to books I would never have given the time of day. Books like this:
I have a very specific fourth-grade memory of reading The Song of Bernadette, Franz Werfel's novel about St. Bernadette Soubirous and her visions of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Lourdes, France. Galvanized to action by a looming book report deadline, I found it amidst my mother's collection of Reader's Digest abridged books. Who could have predicted this chance encounter would spark a life-long interest in the Catholic faith to which I eventually would convert? Given that my great-grandfather helped found our local Lutheran church, that's quite a testament to the life-changing power of friendships formed in a book.
As a ballet-dancing, impressionist art-loving, life-long inveterate bookworm, never would I have picked this book for myself! I was actually somewhat flabbergasted to see it presented in the hands of a demure little sixth grade girl. But somehow Jackie spoke to her, and together we worked our way through the events of his uncommon life, marveling over his athletic prowess and at the intelligence and grace with which he overcame the mighty challenges as America's first African American in the MLB. My life was enriched by his story, one I would eventually impart to all three of my sport-obsessed sons.
So thank you to @jasonreynolds83 for leading me to Ona Judge (as well as to the Ghost who was haunted by his past).
And, thank you, Erica Amstrong Dunbar, for guiding me through Ona's life in your wonderful book that I've just begun to read.
Thank you, writers everywhere. Your stories, both real and imagined, can teach us about ourselves and others; they can teach us about ourselves through others.
Up next: The Sustained Reader Examines The Unfortunate Exclusion of Mrs. Why
Up next: The Sustained Reader Examines The Unfortunate Exclusion of Mrs. Why