Read With the Might of Angels for Free Online Page B

you to someplace green.
    NATIONAL ASSOCIATION FOR THE
ADVANCEMENT OF COLORED PEOPLE (NAACP)
TAPS TOP STUDENTS TO START
INTEGRATION PROCESS.
Parental Consent Required.
    Right off, I recognized Mama’s curly signature and Daddy’s blocky way of forming letters. They’d signed me up to attend Prettyman Coburn, come September!!
Later–Full Morning
Diary Book,
    Is what I pasted during the in-between really here? Or is it part of a Martian dream?
    I’m going to flip your thick pages back, one … two … three …
    NATIONAL ASSOCIATION FOR THE
ADVANCEMENT OF COLORED PEOPLE (NAACP)
TAPS TOP STUDENTS TO START
INTEGRATION PROCESS.
    Parental Consent Required.

Student Name: Dawn Rae Johnson
Grade as of September 8, 1954: 7
Parents:
Thursday, July 15, 1954
Diary Book,
    Yolanda’s no pogo-stick expert, but she’s good at rhyming and singing. Today I jumped high and hard on my pogo, while Yolanda set my pumping to a song.
    Pogo, pogo,
Where do we go?
To the clouds.
To the sky.
Jumping, pumping, way up high.
Pogo, pogo,
Where do we go?
To the moon.
To the stars.
Take a pogo trip to Mars.
Monday, July 19, 1954
Diary Book,
    There was a small item in today’s newspaper about the All-American Girls Baseball League. It looks like the owners of the AAGBBL will decide to suspend play for the 1955 season. Some of the players will keep touring around, but eventually the AAGBBL will call it quits. The papersaid the crowds at the baseball parks, coming to see girls play, are drying up. How can that be? Who wouldn’t want to see the best girl batters, pitchers, and base runners around?
    Now I’ll never get to play in the league. I hope Yolanda doesn’t ask, “Have you ever seen a Negro player in the All-American Girls Baseball League?”
    I was planning to be the first one.
Thursday, July 22, 1954
Diary Book,
    Tonight for supper Mama served my favorite two foods — pulled pork and fried pickles. When I came to the table, Goober had set up his peanuts in the shape of a happy face, smiling at the center of us all.
    Right off, I asked, “How come we get special food on a regular night?”
    “We’re celebrating,” Mama said.
    Mama and Daddy explained some of what Mr. Calhoun had told us, that the test I had taken at school with Yolanda and Roger had been issued by the Department of Education for the state of Virginia. They said that because of the test results, I’d been picked to attend Prettyman Coburn in September.
    They told me the test was set up to be very hard so that even me and the other smart kids at Bethune couldn’t pass it. If we all flunked, the Department of Education would have a reason to keep us out of Prettyman.
    “I don’t ever flunk,” I said.
    Mama nodded. “You three kids who took the test passed.”
    She told me I only missed one question. I knew the question Mama was talking about. She said, “They showed us your test.” Mama looked pleased. “On one of the questions, the test asked to give a word that means a force that propels, and starts with the letter M. It said this force is tumultuous, like a storm.”
    I told Mama, “That question didn’t say anything about a storm.”
    “Anyway,” said Mama, “the correct answer was
maelstrom
.”
    I folded my arms. “What kind of word is
maelstrom
to give to a kid on a test?”
    Mama said, “You did very well on the test, Dawnie. That’s what matters most.”
    Daddy was smiling and shaking his head. He said, “‘MY pogo stick’
does
start with the letter M.”
    He told me about the white lady in the blackdress and the colored men in big-collared suits who’d come to our house. They were from the NAACP, a group of people whose members work to get equal rights for Negroes.
    “How come that lady was
tawlking
funny?” I wanted to know. “And how come she hugged you, Mama?”
    Daddy answered with a question. “How come you weren’t minding your business, Dawnie? That was a private meeting between grown-ups.”
    Goober had set a fried pickle spear onto