In the summer of 1976, our town’s library sponsored a reading challenge. The librarian would record the books that you’d checked out, writing their titles in a red, white and blue booklet that had a Minuteman on the front. Because of the bicentennial, librarians added a red or blue star for each “patriotic” book read.
I’d walk in and slap down my orange library card like a third-grade boss.
That summer meant Minutemen to some. To my Mom, the story was broader, and while she let me choose my books, she steered me toward ones that were less Paul Revere and more Harriet Tubman. The book I remember most was titled Cowslip, about an enslaved 13-year-old girl who, in the book’s opening pages, is auctioned off to pay the owner’s debts.
At Cowslip’s new plantation, she hears the coded song that signaled escape, wrestles with the perceived futility of chasing freedom and learns the word “dignity.” She remembers the magic she learned on her previous plantation, but she must know how to write – forbidden for the enslaved – to activate the magic. She asks a new friend, Job, for help, but instead, Job tells her that reading and writing open a world of knowledge and a different power. Job can read and write, and he offers to teach Cowslip. But here is why reading and writing are illegal for the enslaved: Should Cowslip gain knowledge of other places, of a misrepresented God, of lies told about her “place” in life, then Cowslip becomes dangerous. The master fears knowledge more than anything.
Job tells Cowslip that her namesake flower is meant to grow free, as she is, and in a powerful scene, he writes Cowslip’s name. She is stunned to see herself on a page, the same way White people could be on a page.
The cover of my childhood book was harsh, a frenetic drawing of a girl running into the dark, looking over her shoulder. The cover is now softer, gentler, almost dreamy. Cowslip’s face is framed by flowers meant to grow free.
On this cover, knowledge, not fear, fills Cowslip’s eyes. I wonder if that’s on purpose, or if it’s my interpretation. It feels meaningful. We’re in a time when knowledge is in a death spiral with fear and ignorance. A person’s “place” is more precarious than in previous decades; misrepresentations of God and neighbor are increasing exponentially, and truth is being removed from libraries.
When Outlook Editor and Publisher Teri Ott sent the staff a quiz about our reading preferences, we took the test and compared results. We share a love of language, whether to learn, escape, dream, be surprised, be entertained, or be awed. Language is partially how creation came into being: God “said.” And then God provided a big, beautiful book for us to learn about that creation and God’s love for us.
We live in a frenetic world, but we hope your summer will allow you time to slow down and embrace the joy of God’s creation.
Visit our summer reading suggestions for all ages from the Outlook’s Book Review Editor, Amy Pagliarella, and from several of our book reviewers.
If you’re the quizzy type, here’s the one the staff took: readyourcolor.com
Visit pres-outlook.org/newsletters/ so we can add you to our monthly Page Turners newsletter (it’s free!).
