Fans pick 100 books like Freedom's Children

In my writing I love to relate the stories of important historical actors that are unknown. Especially young actors.

Phillip Hoose apparently shares those loves. He gives us the story of Claudette Colvin who, at fifteen, refused to give up her seat on a Montgomery, Alabama bus to a White person. This was nine months before Rosa Parks’ famous stand. Through Hoose’s beautifully-rendered narrative, we are on the bus with Colvin that day and we are later in the courtroom when she bravely tells her story. 

As I said previously, I love to use the actual words historical actors spoke in my books. Hoose seems to share that passion as well. The author carried out fourteen interviews with Ms. Colvin. Through her own voice, we come to know this amazing young woman.

I had the honor of meeting John Lewis and introducing him when he spoke at the college where I taught.

You can have no better guide to the civil rights movement than the saintly John Lewis. And Lewis’ insider’s look is conveyed as a graphic novel. The images enhance the drama introduced through narration and dialogue. (I was excited to see depictions of places I had visited from my travels in the South.)

March Three begins with the bombing of Birmingham’s Sixteenth Street Baptist Church, includes a discussion of the Mississippi movement, and concludes with a powerful telling of the event Lewis is best known for, the Selma voting rights campaign. You can broaden what you learn from March Three by also reading Books One and Two.

I believe that historical nonfiction is best told as a rich narrative with compelling characters and a page-turning plot structure. No one accomplishes that ideal better than Steve Sheinkin. 

Sheinkin’s power is on full display in this book about the Port Chicago 50, a group of Black sailors during World War II. Living in a world of rampant racism, the men are relegated to the dangerous task of loading ammunition onto ships. When the danger and racism become untenable, many refuse to work. Fifty of the men are charged with mutiny, convicted, and sentenced to fifteen years of hard labor. 

I love to include the actual words of historical actors in my writing and so does Sheinkin. His book draws from oral histories of the sailors. What power their voices bring to the story!!!!

When I taught, I hoped to engage students by making historical figures as human as possible. At the time I wish I had known the writing of Jean Fritz who brings the people of history to life. Magnificently.  

Peppering her books with oddball information about her subjects, she allows them to become more human. And in Jean Fritz books, people talk and act. These features are present in Fritz’s wonderful biography of the women’s rights activist, Elizabeth Cady Stanton.

The reader comes to know Ms. Stanton intimately, her warm friendships with fellow activists, her tensions with her father, her overall independent spirit. And we get a wonderful history of the early American women’s movement. 

Jean Fritz delivers for younger readers and makes history engaging, human, and, yes, exciting.

We tend to think that the success of the civil rights movement in the United States during the 1950s and 1960s was somehow inevitable. But as Clive Webb shows in this marvelous history, this was not really the case. Resistance to civil rights, especially in the South, was deep-seated, widespread, and vicious.

Unearthing the almost forgotten history of racist extremists such as Bryant Bowles, John Kaspar, J.B. Stoner, Rear Admiral John Crommelin, and Major General Edwin Walker, Webb reminds us of the sobering reality that there is often very little separating extremist voices from those of many “ordinary” Americans.

Was World War 2 simply a prelude to the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s?

The eleven authors of the essays in this collection examine the wartime struggle for civil rights from various angles, and like many historical questions, the answers they provide are complicated. While wartime rhetoric, federal actions, and military service all helped advance the black freedom movement—which had been underway for decades—those same forces also motivated opponents of black equality to resist racial change. 

Eig continues another theme that captivates me—that great heroes can be human, with personal failings alongside a compelling voice for social justice.

I love the nuanced, complex picture of King that Eig draws. He shows us the complicated picture of a man that called to our better nature while struggling with his own demons. This is a great portrait of a man and the times he lived in.

How could I or anyone, except a bigot, not love John Lewis for his towering integrity, bravery, and authenticity? His commitment to the beloved community: “Good trouble,” he declared, calling himself and his generation to action, to protest. Non-violent resistance was his touchstone––learning how to love in the face of hate.

His sweeping memoir provides an inside, close-up view of the Civil Rights Movement at its height in the 60s. As executive director of the Student Non-violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), he held fast to his ideals, grappling with the most difficult of questions and obstacles. The beautiful story from his childhood in Alabama, during a storm threatening to upend his aunt’s house, explains the title, Walking with the Wind. I hope to keep walking on the path he set. 

We live in a time when personal convenience seems to trump everything else. So how is it that virtually the entire Black community of Montgomery, Alabama, stayed off the city buses for over a year in the mid-1950s?

The first three chapters of this book answer that question in a completely new way that made the realities of the Jim Crow South and the dangers of the struggle for racial justice snap into focus for me. The boycott was tangentially about segregation on buses, but really, argues McGuire, it was a fight for bodily integrity, safety, and self-respect.

Because it deals with rape and sexual assault, this can be a hard book to read, but it literally gave me a different understanding of what “equality” means.

In September 2017, a new statue was unveiled on the south side of Philadelphia’s City Hall. In contrast to the equestrian statues of Union generals–and former mayor Frank Rizzo (now removed)–to the north of City Hall, this statue commemorated a young Black man who rose to leadership in the South Street neighborhoods of Civil War Philadelphia before he was assassinated during an election riot in 1871.

Biddle and Murray, veteran reporters at the Philadelphia Inquirer, tell a sweeping story of crisis, war, and reconstruction, reaching from the city out across the country, in a powerful narrative focusing on Octavius V. Catto, one of the era’s most tragically lost figures. Catto, the son of a minister who purchased his family’s freedom from slavery in Charleston and settled in Philadelphia, was starting to work as a teacher when the war broke out.

From this position in the Black community, Catto raised a… show more.