A Bold Hour Collaborative Post with Dr. Kimberly Parker: On Jason Reynolds, Youth Literacy and Frugal Bookstore in Roxbury
by Dr. Kimberly Parker with photography from Rosa Alemán, Bridgebold.com
This season’s Bold Hour guest post is by Dr. Kimberly Parker.
Dr. Parker is an award-winning educator based in Boston who holds a steadfast belief in the power of literacy to normalize the high achievement of all students, especially Black, Latinx, and other children of color.
She is the author of Literacy is Liberation: Working Toward Justice Through Culturally Relevant Teaching.
Jason Reynolds has always believed in the complex lives of Black children, even when many people have not. I learned that when I first encountered him through his heartbreaking novel, The Boy in the Black Suit, when I was building my classroom library in 2019. I had actively been looking for nuanced, thoughtful depictions of Black young people, and especially Black boys, and was often left feeling frustrated with the stereotypes that denied them any humanity, agency, or love. In Black Suit, the main character, Matt, is grieving and trying to move on and fall in love and all that accompanies being 17. I remember carrying that book around for a while, book talking it, chatting it up with kids who read it, loved it, passed it along themselves.
From then, I always kept Jason’s books around and they were always ones that were in high demand. Likely around that time, I met Jason in person at an NCTE conference when I was sitting in the lobby beside Tricia Ebarvia, and it was one of the most magical moments. Jason came up the escalator, made eye contact, and maybe hugged me? I don’t quite remember, but it was like we’d known each other forever. I felt so seen by this person who I’d only read about via literacy happenings, or through his books, or panels. To meet him in real life was something else, and I’ve long remembered that feeling even over the years.
Jason has that impact on people. He listens (that’s how he’s said he gets his ideas for stories, btw), he remembers, he notices. I got to see all of this again when he came to Boston to talk about his new novel, Coach, in collaboration with Frugal Bookstore in Roxbury. He answered questions about his book, but the magic happened when he took questions from the audience. No query was too insignificant. Jason leaned in, as if whoever was at the mic was asking the most important thing they’d been brave enough to say, and he took his time answering them. There were two lines of people—many young readers and also some people who were teachers, or were inspired by his words to self-publish. All had their time with him, even as Jason would note that the allocated time was winding down.
But he would not be rushed. Throughout his time, too, he was offering little gems of advice. On writing “the hardest part is putting words down” as young people asked him about how he finds inspiration to write as many books and in as many diverse genres as he does. On literacy and how Americans don’t read translated literature when “the rest of the world is reading everybody,” and how he finds it within himself to keep finding challenging projects: “I don’t write any book I think I can write.”
I also observed the way his words landed on whomever was asking him questions. Folks absorbed everything Jason had to say. It is a powerful thing to be taken seriously, especially by someone who values literacy and people as much as Jason does. He has done more for helping us all to live literate lives than we could ever give him credit for, honestly. How can you not believe in the power of words and reading once you’ve spent any time at all with Jason Reynolds?
Then, as he took the last question and went to the lobby for pictures, I stood in line, waiting my turn, catching up with folks who had brought their children to the talk, and others, we were connected by the deep love and respect for this person who thinks so highly of our children, our lives, and ourselves. In these days and times when to be Black is to be treated so terribly, Jason Reynolds taking the time to talk to everyone, and especially the Black folks, to say the things that we all needed to remember that yes, words can save us and that they are readily accessible for us, was remarkable.
When it was my turn to say hello, he hugged me again and it felt like old times, like the first time when he came up that escalator and it was like we’d known each other forever. Again….
One of the last pictures Jason took was with Leonard and Clarissa Egerton, owners of Frugal Bookstore. I’ve known Leonard longer than I’ve known Jason, but both are connected by their fierce love of literacy and providing access to books for Black folks. I have vivid memories of Leonard ferrying boxes of books for my classroom library up flights of stairs on his dolly, always with a smile and a mildly incredulous look that I’d somehow managed to finagle the funds to purchase as many books as I could from him to get into students’ hands. Leonard, too, has always made the time to entertain ideas about programming (family book clubs and community literacy conferences come to mind); about what young readers needed (and growing his children’s book section of his store to be the most robust one for finding Black childrens’ literature around); and supporting a range of local and national authors. All receive the same time, care, and attention whether a bestselling author or someone newly self-published.
So, perhaps more than anything, this moment was one to pause and be grateful to Jason, yes, and also to Leonard, for believing enough in our right to practice literacies in all their forms and to read books featuring people who look like us, in community with others. Right here. The activist adrienne maree brown and her sister, Autumn, have started asking, “What can you do, and what will you do?” It’s easy to be overwhelmed with life as it is, and to think that whatever action we take won’t matter. However, in their own ways, Leonard and his family are showing, in all these tiny and mighty ways, that providing access, excellent literature, and moments of togetherness are exactly what we need right now, and all the good that comes from being intentional, deliberate, and consistent with those actions and efforts.
It’s quite remarkable that these people, Jason, Leonard, Clarissa, continue insisting on supporting the literacy lives of so many people, especially in this moment when it seems anathema to even talk about diverse literature. All three know the power of words and, more importantly, they know the power of speaking those words into collective space so that we can all remember what connects us and who sees us, and who keeps writing for us. It is a reminder we need now more than ever, and it is so powerful to be in these moments that affirm what we know to be true.
