Marching for Freedom

Walk Together, Children, and Don’t You Grow Weary
by Elizabeth Partridge
ages: 10+
First sentence: “The first time Joanne Blackmon was arrested, she was just ten years old.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

I’m sure this was on my radar before SLJ’s Battle of the (Kids) Books began, but the decision of Gary Schmidt prompted me to delve into it.

And he’s right: it’s a remarkable book.

It’s the story of the Selma, Alabama marches in 1965 as told through the eyes of the children and teenagers that were involved. Partridge’s words and photographs from the time paint a vivid picture of the stories of these children, their parents, and the general plight of African Americans in the south before the mid-60s. The sacrifice that these people made to get what many people now take for granted is awe-inspiring. Sure, the civil rights leaders show up — Dr. King, Rosa Parks, among others — but the real heart and soul of the book are the children that faced the billy clubs, cattle prods, tear gas, and were consistently arrested and rearrested. It’s enough to bring one to tears.

Honestly, two thoughts kept going through my mind while I was reading. First was that I think that this book couldn’t come at a better time. Sure, it was 40 years ago, but I think we need to constantly be reminded of, and remember to teach our children about, the sacrifices that were made. I think — and this just may be me talking — that we tend to become apathetic about what we have, and forget all the people that worked to make it all possible.

Second was that if I wasn’t a voter, I’d be very ashamed. In fact, the next time someone tells me they don’t vote, I’m going to hand them this book. It’s a right, it’s a privilege, and — dang it — we should take advantage of that.

Enough soapbox. The book really is worth your time.

3 thoughts on “Marching for Freedom

  1. This is such a great book — the first time I read it through, I was actually in the car (not driving!), and I kept reading bits aloud to my husband and demanding that he look at the photos.

    Until, of course, I got too choked up to speak. It's powerful stuff.

    Like

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