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FLYING FREE (Bessie Coleman's Dreams) Written by Karyn Parsons & Illustrated by R. Gregory Christie

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Alma and How She Got Her Name (English) Read-Aloud

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Read Aloud: Thank You, Omu! by Oge Mora | Stories with Star

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Read Aloud: The Library Bus by Bahram Rahman

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I first traveled to the Gambia, West Africa, in 2003 as a volunteer teacher. I had an amazing experience, but something threatened to ruin my memory of it all-- the heaps of garbage piled everywhere.

The problem seemed too big to fix. Then a friend told me that in a rural village a woman named Isatou Ceesay was doing something about it. My friend showed me a beautiful purse made from recycled plastic bags, and I vowed to meet Isatou.

During my third stay in the Gambia, in 2007, I finally connected with Isatou and visited her home in Nijau. There I interviewed many women and girls, including the original Gambian women who had begun the recycling project with Isatou a decade earlier. They shared past stories of dead livestock, strangled gardens, and malaria outbreaks linked to the trash. But they also shared new stories of healthier families, better income, and increased self-confidence. Although I wasn't able to include all the details about the women and their project in this book, I believe the story I've shaped captures their spirit and inspirational accomplishments.

Today Nijau is a much cleaner, the goats are healthier, and the gardens grow better. Residents from nearby towns travel there to learn the craft of recycling. People from around the world continue to purchases the recycled plastic purses and the women contribute some of their earnings toward an empowerment center where community members enjoy free health and literacy classes, as well as learn about the dangers of burning plastic trash.

In 2012, that center also became the home for the regions first public library. By the time you read this story, I hope that a copy of One Plastic Bag is shelved there and that it will be checked out once.. then twice... then a hundred times!

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Bessie Coleman, the first black female pilot in the world on Janurary 24, 1923.

The Curtiss jN-4 is the type of aircraft that Bessie flew.

Bessie standing on the wheel of her plane, which she named Jennie, in 1924.

The Federation Aeronautique Internationale awarded Bessie Coleman her pilot license in 1921.

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A Note From Juana

My name is Juana Carlota Martinez Pizarro. My father named me Juana after his mother, Juana Francisca. My mother chose the name Carla to honor the memory of her uncle, Carlos. My father was a man of decisions, so when it was time to register my birth, he changed Carla to Carlota on the birth certificate. He was convinced the Juana Carlota was the mighty name he wanted for his daughter. Thanks to that change, I got stuck with what I thought was the most old-fashioned, harsh, ugly, and way-too-Spanish name in all of Lima, Peru, where I grew up! Little did I know that later on, after I moved to the United States, it would feel unique and remind me every day of where I come from.

What is the story of your name?
What story would you like to tell?

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In Igbo, the Nigerian language of my parents, "omu" means "queen." Yet for me, growing up, meant "Grandma."

When my grandmother cooked, she danced and swayed her hips to the radio as she stirred what was often a large pot of stew. In the evening, my family would come together at the dinner table for her meal. If a neighbor was visiting, they were invited. If a friend had stopped by, they were invited. Everyone in the community had a seat at my grandmother's table.

While my grandmother has since passed away, her giving heart has stayed with me. I see it in my mother, my godmother, my teachers, my mentos, and the other countless powerful women who have shaped my life.
This book is a celebration of their loving, giving spirit.

Thank you!

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You might wonder what it was like to grow up in Afghanistan.

If I tell you that my childhood was "okay," you might think I am joking. Afghanistan has experienced was and human suffering for many years. How could anyone's life there be okay?

What I am saying is that when you are born in war, you are truly unaware of the alternative, peace. Was is your normal. Yet still life carries on, no matter how long or short your time may be. You go to school or learn at home. You play with your friends. You laugh and cry. You get hurt and heal. And you dream. Big dreams like those of every other child on the planet.

I wrote The Library Bus to tell you that story. The story of strength shown by children in Afghanistan, in particular Afghan girls, in pursuit of education. I also wanted to celebrate female teachers. They are brave and resourceful. in their creative ways, they make it possible for girls to continue their education in spite of many obstacles. Teachers run mobile schools and libraries, provide homeschooling, and so much more.

While I have taken the liberty to rearrange some of the events in the book, all the characters are inspired by the children that I met during my visits to refugee camps and orphanages in Kabul. They are the real heroes of Afghanistan. I thank each and every one of them from the bottom of my heart.
--Bahram Rahman