Keep Fighting

Dear Mr. John Lewis,
I have only read 27 pages thus far in your book March and I am speechless. Learning about the hardships African Americans faced during the fight for equality always sparked my interest, however, your book was a whole other level of powerful. In the opening I loved how you portrayed the girls’ innocent conversation in contrast to how violent their conversation ended. I loved how as the series of events continued to unfold, you showed the different reactions and thoughts of influential leaders as they came together to discuss solutions to these problems. There was a constant debate of how to proceed because not everyone agreed that a peaceful, nonviolent approach was best in this situation. However, the biggest lingering question I have had all my life to any Black person to experience this kind of public disp is how is your first reaction to fight for change peaceful? I completely understand the logic of planning peaceful marches and protests to convey your message, but how exactly does one stay calm and peaceful as they are getting beaten by White police officers or spit on by white customers in the local diner while the waiters refuse to serve them or forced to use a different bathroom because the color of their skin is not seen as valuable enough to release their waste in the same room as White people? Reading books like this makes me angry, angry that my people had to go through this bullshit, angry that color matters AND STILL MATTERS. Mr. Lewis you are an inspiration and this book was to remind us how the fight started and it is a wake up that we need to continue this fight. So yes, I accept your challenge to continue the fight.
Sincerely,
Nia Mack

Goodnight Moon

Nia at age 3

The air grew crisp and the wood was icy under my bare feet as I slid into bed quickly. Leaves changing colors and falling, the sound of the heaters, thick comforters were my favorite time of year, and to be quite honest still is. As the door handle turned I shouted quick “I’m all ready, I’m ready!” My dad laughed as he laid down next to me. I grabbed the hard wooden book carefully making sure it remained in tacked. “Are you sure you want to read this again?” My dad asked. “Good night Moon,” I said as I started the book. “Good night stars,” my dad and I said together. “Nia you already know this book.” “It’s my favorite how could I not dad!” 

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