Dear John Lewis,
In this animated book, it sets the tone with the bombing of the church. It then goes onto several cases of unfair treatment and injustice of people’s stories. The book calls out racism, and brings Martin Luther King Jr. to recite his sympathy for the “unoffending, innocent, and beautiful” lives that were lost. A flashback to January 20, 2009 is shown with our president, Mr. Barack Obama, and John Lewis. Following into the next chapter, I think it will show more of the tragic stories that have happened over the past years of our generations.
Starting out into the book, I felt the emotions of the families and friends that had lost their loved ones. Going along with the pictures, makes it seem more real. This happened. I’m wondering why you, John, had decided to start it off with no sugar coating. I’m asking myself, what you think the significance of getting straight to the point of these stories as soon as we read the first page, meant to you. Did you want students to realize that this is life? Something that doesn’t stop for you, even when tragic and surreal events like this happen to us?
Today, racism exists. It’s sickening to the human stomach, even thinking about it. John Lewis, you think that one day, we can have a world without racism. We need people in the world to think like you do. We need the hope. However, I don’t think we can ever rid the world 100% of it. It seems very narcissistic to say. We go to college and work meeting new people with new beliefs. We learn from each other, we understand a little more of each other. We can start by individuals, to work towards seeing each other as human beings, not by pigmentation.
Waking up on Saturdays where the best days to open my eyes. Did I finish my reading log? Of course I did. That was my one way ticket into the 5th graders All-Star Ice Cream party. My mind quickly diverts to the mouth watering smell of the breakfast that was being made just down the hallway, right past the living room, in the kitchen. I already knew what to expect. Smelling garlic bread being made in the oven, I’d start making my way down my metal bunk-bed. Walking to open my bedroom door and hearing the sizzling of eggs and sausages getting slightly crispy on the edges was one of my favorite sounds. I’d walk past my sister’s bedroom, into the long hallway, past the bathroom we shared, and start slowing down once I’d peek at the sunlight shining into the living room. Right past living room was the kitchen. However, the living room was the place to be, on these fine Saturday mornings.
The sound of the television roared of MTV: Saturday’s Top 20 Countdown. This was it. This is how I fell in love at 11 years old. Music was my first love. The feeling of waking up to my family breakfast, the warm feeling of the sun shining through our window panes, and the sounds of the music and cheer gave me such bless. Music had my family breakfasts filled with horrible off-key singing and atrocious dancing, yet this was where I always felt the most peaceful. It spoke to me, without having to say any words. The nostalgic feeling of these memories sends chills down my spine.
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