Inevitably, a child asks me during a school visit, "So, would you do it?" I can tell by the group's eager expressions that they want me to shout, "Absolutely!" They know they would do it.

Invariably, however, I have to answer, "I wish I could say, 'Yes.' But I'm too cowardly." Their new expressions tell me they're disappointed. After all, why would their school invite an author who's a wimp, especially when the story she's just told them focuses on thousands of courageous children?

As a result, I've been tempted to alter my response. However, not only must I be honest but also I've begun to realize that, paradoxically, their disappointment is part of why I'm there.

When Mary Cronk Farrell asked me to write about how the subjects of my book, We've Got a Job: The 1963 Birmingham Children's March, affected me, I knew the topic would be complex. Through the experiences of four specific young people, the book tells the story of how 3000 to 4000 black school children desegregated Birmingham, Alabama-the city that Dr. King considered the most violently racist in the country. It was certainly the most thoroughly segregated, with laws and customs decreeing that "Negro and white people are not to play together," that a seven-foot wall must separate blacks and whites in restaurants, that separate ambulances should carry sick people to separate hospitals. 

Some black ministers and others tried for years to desegregate the town. But a racist police commissioner, named "Bull" Connor, who ignored bombs tossed at the homes and churches of civil rights activists, defeated them. Instead, children took the lead that May. They protested, picketed, sat-in at lunch counters, and, above all, marched. Even when the commissioner attacked them with snarling German shepherds and powerful water canons, the children held hands and kept marching. They also sang, prayed, were arrested en masse, spent days and nights in packed jails-and did it all peacefully. Read more...