24–25 End-of-Year Showcase with Carole Boston Weatherford

Jesse Hagopian (he/him): I’m happy to introduce you to our special guest, Carol Boston Weatherford, award-winning author of books on African American history for children and young adults. She accepted our invitation for this exclusive event for study group members due to her respect for your efforts this year. And most importantly to me, Carol is the author of books that have changed my children’s lives. I am so grateful for her book on Schomburg. I’ve gotten to speak at the Schomburg Center, and I was able to read this book and have my kids know where I was going to speak. And her book on Fannie Lou Hamer. And did you also write Before John Was a Jazz Giant?

Carole Weatherford: I sure did.

Hagopian: My son’s name is Miles and I had to teach him about the great jazz artists, and that one just touched our family. So, thank you so much for everything you’ve given the children.

Weatherford: Thank you. Thank you for that kind introduction. Before John was a Jazz Giant is one of my books that’s been banned.

Hagopian: Oh, my goodness!

Weatherford: Why would that book be banned? Why? Why? Why? Why?

Hagopian: That really breaks my heart. That is telling of what kind of society we’re living in, a book that has given my kids so much joy. Wow!

Well, let’s jump into the questions. I want to begin by asking you what led you to focus on writing Black history for young people with a focus on stories that are typically left out of the curriculum?

Weatherford: I’m going to break that question in half. I’m going to answer first what led me to write for young people. My children led me to write for young people. When I began taking my toddlers to library story times, they were introduced to a new crop of what were then called multicultural — they’re now called diverse — books, and I was really happy that there were more diverse books for them when they were growing up in the early in the 1990s than there had been for me when I was growing up. Because there were very few for me growing up in the 1960s. So, that’s the first part.

The librarian shared a book called Tar Beach by Faith Ringgold and my children loved that book. And the book made a light bulb go off in my mind. At that point I was writing poetry for adults, and it dawned on me that perhaps I could write for children. So from that story time on, while my kids were in story time, I was in the non-fiction section looking for reference books about how to write for children, and looking for mentor texts in the juvenile section that I could study, and perhaps build a career as a children’s book author. And it kind of worked out.

Now, once I embarked, I was already writing. I was writing for adults. I was already writing about historical subject matter. I suppose I wrote about that because, for one, there was always a grandmother in the house when I was growing up, so there was that sense of living history. My family had a farm that had been in our family on the Eastern Shore [of Maryland] since Reconstruction, and I became aware of some of that history when I was growing up. My parents exposed me to art museums and historical museums and other cultural institutions, and I just had a thirst for history. I considered myself an amateur historian, I guess.

So once I started writing for children, it soon became my mission to mine the past for family stories, fading traditions, and forgotten struggles that center African American resistance, resilience, rejoicing, remarkability, and remembrance. I wanted to fill in some of the gaps in my own knowledge, and in so doing pass that knowledge on to children.

Hagopian: That’s beautiful! Thank you for telling us that story. It’s inspiring me to want to do more writing for young people as well. What themes or insights emerged from your books, and which of those themes do you think are vital for today?

Weatherford: Well, the theme of resistance, of course. The topic of enslavement and segregation. I have an annotated bibliography of my work that I was asked by a friend to compile, and that friend was first a librarian, and is now the director of the Dallas African American Museum. He said, “Carole, you need to put together an annotated bibliography that is set up like a timeline rather than in alphabetical order.” So I did. And what I found is that I had covered quite a sweep of African American history. So the themes, I’m not limited to any one historical period, but they’re the themes, again, of resistance and resilience, transcending oppression, fighting oppression, enduring oppression, and achieving against the odds. My work tries to lift the ceiling off of young people’s dreams to show them that if Leontyne Price and Lena Horne and Paul Robeson and Henry “Box” Brown could achieve — in spite of the odds against them, which are far greater than the odds that we face, even though we’re in a regressive time right now — that today’s children, too, can set their sights high and achieve their goals.

Hagopian: Yes, yes, thank you for lifting that ceiling for so many. We have an incredible group gathered here today with us, some of the most dedicated educators and teacher educators and librarians around the country that are refusing to lie to kids. These are educators that are teaching for Black lives despite this regressive era that we’re in. So I wanted to ask you why it matters that the teachers and authors and librarians bring people’s history to young people.

Weatherford: Well, I believe that young people not only deserve the truth, but demand the truth. I believe that children are not too tender for tough topics. Thus, the topics that I tackle in my books. And I believe that children will know injustice when they see it, and they will know how to interrogate injustice. So, I think it’s very important that we give them the opportunity to do that. An essential part of the education process is critical literacy. It’s very important, and I applaud the teachers for doing the work.

What I tell teachers in these tough times is that even if the books are banned from the schools, we must educate ourselves so that we can be the book. We’ve got to be the book. That’s what these times call for. We might not be able to take the book in the classroom, but we can take the knowledge that we have into the classroom and teach with confidence. One thing I have found over the years is that even though I’m writing for children, who are my intended audience — I discovered this when my Fannie Lou Hamer biography, Voice of Freedom, came out — many adults don’t know about these topics. I found that my books are really doing double duty, teaching not only the intended audience of children, but teaching the educators at the same time. And when you teach a parent or an educator, you teach generations. The impact is exponential.

I think it’s very important that we educate ourselves, particularly in these times. Because knowing your history is generational wealth, and that is something that we need to give to our children — a knowledge of a more inclusive history that includes people of color rather than excludes them, or trivializes or diminishes our contributions. One thing I’ve been saying recently is that at a time when our history is being erased in some sectors, that our heroes are too legendary to hide, our pain is too deep to dismiss or diminish, and our history is too epic to erase. So it’s very important that we empower our children with that history.

Hagopian: Yes, it is. I’m going to have to quote you in many sessions going forward, that knowing our history is generational wealth. I love that, and I love the idea of educators becoming the book. It reminds me of the book Fahrenheit 451, where the government burns all the books. But people memorize and pass it on.

Weatherford: And the movie The Book of Eli, as well, which had that strange twist where you don’t know until the end that Denzel Washington’s character Eli is blind, but he’s memorized the books.

Hagopian: That’s right.

Weatherford: It’s very important. Teachers can’t teach what they don’t know. Parents can’t pass on what they don’t know. So, it’s really important that more educators like you do the work. It’s important work. Children are the most important audience, the most important readers. That’s why I feel so wonderful about being able to write for children, even though that was not my intent when I set my sights on becoming an author.

Hagopian: Yeah, that’s wonderful. I’ve learned right alongside my kids from your books, so I can attest to them doing double duty. Thank you so much.

We just have time for one last question. Anything that you want to leave all of these educators with today? Because it’s a hard time to be a teacher. It’s always hard to be underpaid and overworked, but it is especially hard right now to be underpaid and overworked, and to be in the crosshairs of the federal government, and to have to worry about everything you’re saying. The attacks that are coming down are fast and furious, and I am incredibly inspired by the teachers here. Some of them are teaching in states where it’s illegal to teach Black history, and they are linking arms and supporting each other anyway. So I just wanted to ask you what words you could leave them with.

Weatherford: I’m going to think about some of my own teachers. I began school before school desegregation. I didn’t grow up in the South; I grew up in, well, not the deep South, I grew up in Baltimore. The Mason Dixon line, as you know, runs through Maryland. But my teachers were extremely resourceful. I think all teachers are resourceful. Teachers buy their own supplies. I mean, what other professionals have to buy their own supplies and bring them to the workplace? Nobody. Nobody is expected to do that. But teachers do that year after year after year, and amidst all kinds of changes and pressures to teach to the test. And now they’ve got to be careful what they say, and censor certain subjects. But you are brave, you are resilient, you know how to resist, you are remarkable, and you bring me joy. You bring me joy.

Hagopian: Oh, that is so beautiful! I can’t think of a better way to celebrate their work than having brought you here and ending with those words. Thank you so much, Carole.

Weatherford: Thank you, thank you, thank you. Teachers, I just love all of you. I hope I have a chance to meet you sometime at a conference. And like I said, Baltimore people, please reach out to me. I’d love to meet you, and meet the members of the study group. Maybe we can do that this summer. So, everybody have a safe and relaxing and rejuvenating summer.

Hagopian: Everyone take a second to unmute and thank Carole. . .

We have study groups all over the country who meet monthly. We are going to hear briefly from three of the groups as a part this wonderful celebration that we’re holding today. And I should say it is fortuitous that we are holding this celebration also on the 100th birthday of Malcolm X. We can all raise our glasses in a toast to Malcolm X today as well and celebrate teachers who are continuing the legacy of Malcolm X by teaching the truth about race and racism in this country.

I am very happy to welcome this afternoon, Tonette Campbell, English Language Arts and African American Studies high school teacher, who is leading a study group of 13 Baltimore city teachers of color across the district; Fortunato Lim, divisional principal at Seven Oaks School Division, who is leading a study group of five teachers and an administrator in Winnipeg, Manitoba; and Chantee Earl, teacher educator at Georgia State University, who is leading a study group of 21 members, including graduate students who are teaching in K–12 classrooms, certified teachers, community educators.

We’re going to begin with Tonette, can you tell us about a reading discussion that made a memorable or impactful study group meeting?

Tonette Campbell: One of our most impactful discussions happened just after Trump was reelected. We had been reading selections that examined the cyclical nature of racial progress and backlash, and the conversation organically turned to what we called the “equity pendulum.” We drew parallels between the Reconstruction Era—when gains by Black Americans were quickly met with violent resistance like the rise of the KKK and voter suppression—and our current moment. We also connected the election of Barack Obama to the rise of Trump’s presidency. It was powerful to link these patterns to what we were teaching our students and to affirm why it’s critical to remain vigilant. That conversation reminded us how essential it is to have spaces like this to process, reflect, and strategize together.

Fortunato Lim: Because we were new to this journey together, the poem Two Sets of Notes by M.K. Asante provided a strong and meaningful starting point. It served as a powerful entry into conversation not only within our study group but also among our broader school staff.

This reading led to meaningful conversations about the disconnect between school curricula and students’ lived experiences. One of our administrators found the piece so impactful that she brought it back to her own school and used it with her staff. She later shared how it sparked a shift in thinking about curriculum design and delivery, challenging her team to consider how they might make learning more affirming and inclusive for racialized students. It was one of those moments where the text and our conversations didn’t just stay in the study group, it traveled, influenced, and transformed other spaces too.

Chantee Earl: My students felt that reading Baldwin’s “A Talk to Teachers” alongside Delpit’s “Lessons from Teachers” was incredibly impactful and deeply relevant to their teaching practice. They were struck by how both authors address the urgency of using education as a tool for social change and how both emphasize the moral responsibility teachers have to challenge oppressive systems. Baldwin’s raw, unapologetic call to action resonated with them, making them question how they can use their classrooms to push students to think critically and challenge injustice. Delpit’s focus on culturally responsive teaching and empowering marginalized voices felt like a practical extension of Baldwin’s message, giving them concrete ways to apply those ideas in real-world teaching contexts. Together, these readings created powerful moments of reflection and connection, reminding them that as new teachers, they have the power to either uphold or disrupt harmful narratives – and that they’re not alone in that work.

Hagopian: Yes, thank you for sharing those stories. What an incredible year. And you know, Julia and I got to sit in with many study groups this year and hear stories like these and we know the power of the work you are doing. When we’re up here praising y’all, it’’ no empty praise. Y’all are really doing the work to change this country to empower young people to be a part of that change as well. I wanted ask y’all one more question: What has been the biggest benefit of hosting a Teaching for Black Lives study group?

Campbell: The biggest benefit of hosting a Teaching for Black Lives study group has been the community. It’s a space where we, as educators of color, can speak openly, share resources, encourage each other to resist and reimagine, and feel seen. We’re not just talking about equity—we’re living it, teaching it, and finding joy and healing through it. It’s been restorative, collaborative, and deeply grounding.

Lim: The greatest benefit has been the intentional time we carved out together to engage in honest, meaningful dialogue rooted in the texts of Teaching for Black Lives, but also deeply connected to our daily classroom experiences as educators.

Although none of our members identify as part of the Black community, the group became a meaningful space to explore what it means to be an ally. Together, we worked to build deeper awareness, accountability, and action in support of Black students, families, and colleagues. For example, after engaging with the text and discussing issues of anti-Blackness in schools, several members of our group advocated for changes to classroom practices and schoolwide policies such as revisiting disciplinary procedures that impact Black students, and incorporating more Black-authored texts into English and Social Studies curricula. We also initiated conversations with colleagues about how to better represent Black histories and lived experiences throughout the year not just during Black History Month. These actions grew directly from our learning and collective reflection, transforming the group into a space of both support and responsibility.
With each meeting, we grew closer not only as colleagues, but as co-conspirators committed to the work of teaching for Black lives.

Earl: The study group offered my graduate student teachers a powerful space to dig into conversations about Black history, systemic racism, and the fight for equity. It’s more than just a study group – it’s a community where new and seasoned teachers were able to openly share their challenges with oppressive surveillance and fear tactics in schools. By exploring social justice issues through the lens of these critical articles and historical events, my students not only learned strategies to push back against these barriers but also built deeper connections with one another, creating a strong, supportive network for their teaching journey. Attending the larger sessions, hearing from authors, learning the history, and listening to stories from educators nationwide showed my students that they’re not alone in this work. It helped them see that there’s a powerful, wider community of people fighting for justice in education – a network they can connect with and draw strength from as they navigate their own classrooms.