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Informationen zum Autor Renée Watson is a #1 New York Times bestselling author, educator, and community activist. Her books have sold over one million copies. Her young adult novel, Piecing Me Together (Bloomsbury, 2017), received a Coretta Scott King Award and a Newbery Honor. Her children's picture books and novels for teens have received several awards and international recognition. She has given readings and lectures at many places, including the United Nations, the Library of Congress, and the U.S. embassies in Japan and New Zealand. Her poetry and fiction center the experiences of Black girls and women, and explore themes of home, identity, and the intersections of race, class, and gender. Ekua Holmes is a collage-based artist who investigates family histories, relationship dynamics, childhood impressions, and the power of hope, faith, and self-determination in her work. She has created and led workshops, been a visiting artist and lecturer, and held artist residencies throughout New England. For her work in illustrating children’s literature, Holmes is the recipient of a Caldecott Honor, Coretta Scott King’s John Steptoe New Talent Illustrator Award, Robert Siebert and Horn Book awards. She is also currently Commissioner and Vice-Chair of the Boston Art Commission, along with Associate Director at the Center for Art and Community Partnerships at MassArt. Klappentext "Poet Renâee Watson looks back at her childhood and urges readers to look forward at their futures with love, understanding, and celebration in this fully illustrated poetry collection"-- Leseprobe at•?las | \ 'at-les \ from Merriam-Webster Dictionary 1 capitalized: a Titan who for his part in the Titans’ revolt against the gods is forced by Zeus to support the heavens on his shoulders 2 capitalized: one who bears a heavy burden 3(a): a bound collection of maps often including illustrations, informative tables, or textual matter Black girl you are Atlas. The way you carry the weight of the hood on your shoulders like a too-heavy backpack. How you big-sister the Black boys on the playground, in the classroom, in the back row of the choir stand who need a good stare-down every now and then. You already know when to tell your friend, He ain’t the one for you . You already know she won’t listen and you will be there to wipe her tears when love fails her. Black girl you are Atlas. The way your very presence in a room is a reminder of where you come from, a demand of what you are owed. Black girl you are atlas. Your bones a collection of histories, your blood rivers and flows, rivers and flows. You carry the dirges, the wailing. You carry the requiem of your ancestors, you are proof of their sweet breath. You queened and ruled and slaved and plowed and escaped and fought and got captured and fought and marched and protested and raised funds and raised fists and fought and fought and passed out flyers and voted in and voted out and fought and fought for your rights, for your peace of mind, for today, for tomorrow. Black girl you are atlas. You carry the jig and the two-step. You are festival and feast. You are nourishment in famine. Black girl you are atlas. You know the way back, the way forward. Black girl you are Atlas. The way no one expected you to be the fulfillment of prophecy. But it is you, always, who holds the world up. Sisterhood Haiku, I And what would we do without the knowing women? How could we survive? That Girl Ooh, look at that girl. You see the way she walk? Like she got somewhere to be. No. Like she tryin’ to leave? Yeah. She walkin’ fast, like she gotta get away and never come back. Walkin’ from a dark past, a few mistakes. That girl look like she walkin’ from a home that don’t k...
