LUCY SINGS ON LUCY STREET: It Shines!

HARPER, 2025

Inspired by a true story, LUCY SHINES ON LUCY STREET is written by Lawrence Roberts and Sally-Ann Roberts, with illustrations by Jestenia Southerland and an epilogue by Robin Roberts of GOOD MORNING AMERICA. With a team like this to support it, this new picture book doesn't really need my endorsement, but it has it! 

I sometimes request picture books of interest from publishers, which I then read as digital files or as physical books when provided by the publisher. I never promise a review of any kind, but only request those that hold great promise. In this case, a package arrived at my door unrequested, and it is a title that had missed my radar (despite that remarkable support team I mentioned). I'm happy it did, since this story is both entertaining and inspiring. 

The colorful but subtle art combine with the straightforward storytelling to take me back to a mid-twentieth century Akron, Ohio (1932, actually). It was a time and place in which kids ran through the neighborhood in happy packs, when the location allowed for integrated neighborhoods and wide acceptance of all. What it also provided was a sense of security and joy within the kid-crew despite the encroaching reality of the Great Depression.

 

Lucy looks up from a game to see that her home is being stripped of its time-payment furnishings, as other homes soon will be. Mother's reassurances that the family will be fine are received (by the characters and by readers) with less than full confidence. Lucy's grandparents live at the end of the block, another throwback image of stability in extended family life. There, Lucy finds comfort in grandpa Pastor George's hug, in the rhythm of the porch swing accompanying his familiar song: THIS LITTLE LIGHT OF MINE...

"Singing is good medicine" is his advice, which extends to some foot-stomping fun that draws her neighbor friends to sing along. Reality, though, pulls Lucy back to reality when the song ends and the truck drives away with their furnishings inside. 

What follows is a series of scenes that reveal the power of sustaining hope and adjusting to new realities, to Lucy's effort to support her saddened parents, to the power of hope that echoes to other families through her singing, and ultimately to a wider, resilient neighborhood. The epilogue depicts Lucy as a young woman who is sharing her singing with a church class of children, and who then gets good news that will lead her into an even more secure future. 

There's much to recommend this seemingly simple story. It is a showcase of a specific time, place, and conditions. it retains a strong sense of family and strength despite the stark loss of the essentials of a safe home. It allows adults to be both vulnerable and stable resources. And it takes a widely familiar song, one that could seem childish/childlike and elevates it to the reality of its message. Letting our own lights glow, even in the worst of time, may do as much for those around us as for ourselves. Letting that glow grow, letting it rekindle the light in others, is profound. This lnew picture book celebrates that.

THE LAST STAND: Lovely, Powerful History

 In an earlier post I first featured a picture book by the Pumphrey brothers, narrative storytelling illustrators and wonderfully effective voices for Black History that is ignored, not just overlooked. They create stories that speak for themselves, adding excellent foundational background in their creator notes in their debut THE OLD TRUCK. The author did the same in this new truck-centric picture book written by Antwan Eady and illustrated by Jarrett and Jerome Pumphrey. 

Alfred A. Knopf, 2023

THE LAST STAND features an old truck and continues that underlying history of Black farmers and their current lives, as the cover reveals. Relationships star, including the partnership, the evident love between Papa Earl and the young narrator,  his grandson. The surface story indicates that Papa is a farmer, that the young narrator shares and learns those habits, practices, skills, and appreciations by living the life with his family. The cover and opening revelations also indicate how important Saturdays are, not just for them but for the community. That's the day that the two generations load their harvest in Granny's sweetgrass baskets, fill the bed of the old blue truck, and head out to the farmers' market. 

Such Saturday chores are more quickly said than done, allowing readers a few page turns to gain perspective on the work and time for minimal but potent text to mention Papa's black and wrinkled hands, each wrinkle telling a story. Of fixing, of carrying signs, of taking stands in life. Those simple signs (in the background, on the other "closed" stands, on the bumper sticker) point out the hardships and struggles that underlie these current Saturday mornings. Black community shoppers lined up and waiting speak volumes, too, about the significance of sustaining this food stand experience on both sides of the exchange. Not only are there economic and political strengths in this cycle but also a strengthening of community. Shoppers and sellers are known to each other, seen by each other. 

On its own, this would make an important and complete story. But, as they say on the infomercials, "Wait, there's more...". And the more in this case is the core of the story. The pair return home after dark, returning to their dusty bumpy driveway, where every bump welcomes them home and tells a story of its own. When the young narrator next describes a change, he is coping with collecting and loading and preparing for Saturday market on his own. Papa does not participate. Readers are allowed only hints that Papa is experiencing some kind of struggle, but the tradition will go on. 

Or will it...?

Delivering harvest loads on a bike produces a seemingly insurmountable obstacle, precious crops spilling onto the roadway or needing to be left behind. The next Saturday we are reassured that Papa is still around but too tired to load or drive. A solution has been considered and implemented, though, and the market opens that morning. Including Papa Earl's sign. Even then, the story has not concluded. A few more page turns allow the storytelling to include every player in the satisfying, inspiring closing.

This book is a delight, even at its most literal, it's uplifting. It serves as mentor material for discussions, even lessons, on thorough and effective storytelling. Of not simply "saying more"  but of following the trail to the heart of the story. The text captures the heart and power of the relationships among the family and community with direct and lyrical language but surprisingly few words. The visual narrative reveals similar simplicity with eloquence that yields even more power to each line, detail, and word of text. That includes those recurring indicators to "Support Black Farmers".  

This is a picture book that entertains and satisfies, but also enlightens and challenges. It contributes important content to our generally untold American history and encourages us to learn more. There's not a thing I'd change about it, and I hope it finds its way onto countless lists and shelves and into discussions when it comes to layers and layers of topics: community, economy, social justice, social-emotional learning, multigenerational families, farming and gardening, and so many more. It's a true harvest of rich discussion and reading resources.