It was Mirha’s first day of school! In the morning, Baba made her favorite breakfast, Mama kissed ..
It took guts to dream of becoming the first black woman in the U.S. Congress. It took even more guts ..
I listen to the quiet hum of the plane and the not-so-quiet flutter of my heart in my chest. This is it. Another ..
Have you ever heard a woodpecker tapping on a tree trunk? The tap-tap-tap of its beak against the bark ..
For my fourth birthday my parents arranged a puppet show and invited the other children from my playgroup. ..
I write these stories of Selma that I knew and loved. My own Selma. A Selma that brought me joy, troubled ..
“What are you guys talking about?” she asks. I wait for Soojin to answer, expecting her to say something ..
You may get the idea that racism is happening only to Black and brown people. Racism is a white person’s ..
Kindness is a Choice: by Jacqueline Woodson Dearest Toshi and Jackson Leroi, Each morning before you leave ..
We come from stardust, our bodies made of ancient elements. We come from single cells evolving over billions ..
Darryl loved third grade. He especially loved music class and writing. “Great job, Darryl!” ..
An estimated 800,000 young people who were brought to the United States as children have applied for a government ..
“I want you to know that in the last days and hours of my life you inspired me. You filled me with ..
I got my morning chores and schoolwork done at lightning speed so I could get to the boards–maybe ..
“Hey, Adam, is the president mom’s boss now?” “No, Yousif, the president’s ..
Tonight my face was Seafoam Blue. Not my whole face. Just a light swish across my fore- head, the tops ..
“It’s her choice.” Mama says. Looking slightly defeated. “I told her as long as it’s a natural ..
Neither of her parents had attended college, so she didn’t have much help with the application ..
Climbing the stairs, I headed to the bedroom in the back of the house that I shared with Eddie and Billy. ..
The bus smelled of mildew, machine oil, and sweat. As the suburban Atlanta sprawl disappeared behind ..
Abdul loved to tell stories. He told one about the high-stepping kids who collected donations in boots. ..
My mom has her own personal arsenal of silence, and she wields it like the Force, bending me to her will. ..
I like telling made up stories, Misaabe thinks. Can the real ones be just as good? So, the next day, ..
I often think of the feather in one way or another. I think of the Indian dancers with the feathers in their ..
