Since our new young friends stopped in a couple weeks ago, they haven't missed a day to stop in. One of my favorite activities to observe Wes read Redwall (by Brian Jacques) to Allenia. The young'ns have noticed the amount of reading material scattered around the house, some Dr. Seuss, some Bible commentary, some classic fictions.
In a moment of (secretly) hopeful humor I offered to read my current selection to him. Thinking it would be over his 11 year old head, as I often read the same paragraph multiple times to breathe in each oozing thought, I inquired, "Hey bro, wanna read this with me?" [fold Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Why We Can't Wait and rotate to showoff]
But before my arrogance could chalk up another point on the board, ignorance blurted out its warning in the form of this adolescent's innocence. "Nah, we're reading that in school," retorted the not-yet-teen. Thinking he was politely passing me off as some freak, I refused to believe him. "Whatever. Wait. Are you serious?"
"Let me see the cover." (What a clever response that would be be, I thought)
I hand him the book.
"Yeah, that's it," he confirms.
"This one, here? This book? By Martin Luther King, Jr.? Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.?"
[Exasperated]"Yes."
"Look again. Why We Can't Wait? In your class? At school?"
"Yeah. We're on like chapter 6 or something." [astonished that I don't believe him]
"Okay. I believe you. That's awesome. Its a really good book."
Now I'm rushing through the book to catch his class so we can talk about it. Civil rights movement conversations with a 6th grader. Rock on.
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