The Watsons Go to Birmingham – 1963
The Watsons Go to Birmingham – 1963. Christopher Paul Curtis, 1995. Delacorte Press.
Wonderful authentic first-person narration by an African-American little boy about his family in cold, cold Flint, Michigan, where his mama longs for the warmth of home in Alabama but his dad reminds her of the Jim Crow stuff they were glad to leave behind. Basic childhood stuff: a bully for a big brother, who will then turn around and defend him; worry about his appearance, his “lazy eye”; the excitement of preparations for a family trip to Birmingham, including the delight of a turntable that fits into the car where he can play “Yakkity-yak” as many times in a row as his parents will tolerate.
The road trip to Birmingham is an adventure, and meeting his grandma is a pleasure: he somehow had this tiny sweet lady turned into a big scary harpy in his mind. But he has a brush with death when he wades into a lake with an undertow, against abundant warnings; his brother pulls him out in the nick of time. He’s still a little slowed up from that experience when a bomb goes off in the church down the road, where his little sister had headed off to Sunday school, and he is afraid he’s lost her. By luck, she had left the church before the tragedy, but the double horror sends him into hiding behind the couch when they get home to Flint until, again, he is rescued by his big brother, and finds his resilience in the face of the meanness of the world.
Laugh-out-loud funny, absolutely believable, and Curtis manages to do some teaching in ways that don’t feel contrived. Where has this author been all my life? He has a half-dozen other middle grade books out.
Wonderful authentic first-person narration by an African-American little boy about his family in cold, cold Flint, Michigan, where his mama longs for the warmth of home in Alabama but his dad reminds her of the Jim Crow stuff they were glad to leave behind. Basic childhood stuff: a bully for a big brother, who will then turn around and defend him; worry about his appearance, his “lazy eye”; the excitement of preparations for a family trip to Birmingham, including the delight of a turntable that fits into the car where he can play “Yakkity-yak” as many times in a row as his parents will tolerate.
The road trip to Birmingham is an adventure, and meeting his grandma is a pleasure: he somehow had this tiny sweet lady turned into a big scary harpy in his mind. But he has a brush with death when he wades into a lake with an undertow, against abundant warnings; his brother pulls him out in the nick of time. He’s still a little slowed up from that experience when a bomb goes off in the church down the road, where his little sister had headed off to Sunday school, and he is afraid he’s lost her. By luck, she had left the church before the tragedy, but the double horror sends him into hiding behind the couch when they get home to Flint until, again, he is rescued by his big brother, and finds his resilience in the face of the meanness of the world.
Laugh-out-loud funny, absolutely believable, and Curtis manages to do some teaching in ways that don’t feel contrived. Where has this author been all my life? He has a half-dozen other middle grade books out.
