This beautiful story, metaphor, glimpse into the thoughts of young girls living in the country in the 1950s is suitably illustrated in natural water color hues of yellow, blue, green and brown. The natural setting of summer and swings, jump ropes, puddles, clouds and friends playing outside sets the tone for the natural development of friendship between two girls who see each other from a blurry distance, but as the story develops they come closer and into clearer focus.
Like many books for children the cultural rules of the time are incorporated into the text. Play safely inside during rainy days. It isn’t polite to stare. Don’t go over the fence, it isn’t safe. But as children are known to think, going over does not exclude going onto the fence.
Because this story is told from the perspective of a black, small town, girl by Jacqueline Woodson, it is a much stronger statement on developing race relations than it would be if the protagonist was the white girl. Had this story been told from the perspective of the white child, it could sound like a privileged white girl on a crusade. But for me the similarities of childhood thoughts as they come from the black girl, seem more equal. From experience I can say that the questions of racial segregation as posed by Woodson in this quiet summertime tale are authentic. In the 1950s in America, during my childhood, there was a lot of confusion regarding who we could and could not play with. I had questions about why there was a petition to keep Japanese people from buying homes in the south Minneapolis city. I was surprised when Marc said he couldn’t go to the turnabout dance with me because I was Catholic and he was Jewish.
What I really appreciate about this book is the innocent portrayal of the girls as they move towards friendship and how the protagonist “doesn’t care” what the other black girls think about her befriending the white girl. I like that Woodson avoided the white power issue; that she placed no blame on either race; that she had children solving racial issues that adults had created; that the black girl’s mother was portrayed as a wise woman who wanted to keep her child safe, but did not evidence fear of the white girl.
The language of this book is summer sweet with a little hometown dialect like, “I live down yonder,” “My mama says, and “…that girl didn’t”. The repetition of /s/ sounds throughout the text added to the tone of long, stretched out, summer days. The simplicity of the story line puts the reader in a mood that for me was nostalgic. The big font, bold and black in white spaces, sets off the text from the soft impressionistic watercolors and allows the reader time to get into the pictures but read the text separately.
This is a must share read-aloud for middle school students. I often read it while reading Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry.