Jacqueline Woodson - Brown Girl Dreaming

In Harlem, Malcolm X is standing on a soapbox
talking about a revolution. Outside the window of University Hospital,snow is slowly falling. So much alreadycovers this vast Ohio ground. In Montgomery, only seven years have passed
since Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on a city bus. I am born brown-skinned, black-hairedand wide-eyed.I am born Negro here and Colored there and somewhere else, the Freedom Singers have linked arms, their protests rising into song: Deep in my heart, I do believethat we shall overcome someday. and somewhere else, James Baldwin is writing about injustice, each novel, each essay, changing the world. I do not yet know who Ill bewhat Ill sayhow Ill say it... Not even three years have passed since a brown girl named Ruby Bridges walked into an all-white school. Armed guards surrounded her while hundreds of white people spat and called her names.

She was six years old. I do not know if Ill be strong like Ruby.I do not know what the world will look likewhen I am finally able to walk, speak, write... Another Buckeye! the nurse says to my mother.Already, I am being named for this place.Ohio. The Buckeye State.My fingers curl into fists, automatically This is the way, my mother said, of every babys hand. I do not know if these hands will becomeMalcolmsraised and fistedor Martinsopen and askingor Jamesscurled around a pen.I do not know if these hands will beRosasor Rubysgently glovedand fiercely foldedcalmly in a lap,on a desk,around a book,readyto change the world...