What happens when a Coretta Scott King Author Honoree, two-time NAACP Image Award winner, and three-time Caldecott Honoree teams up with the critically acclaimed author of several LGBTQ picture-book biographies? Good things.
In this biography of Bayard Rustin, Carole Boston Weatherford and Rob Sanders begin with Rustin looking out over the Washington Monument on August 28, 1963, wondering if people would show up for the march he had worked to organize. They then zip us back to Rustin’s birth in Pennsylvania where he was raised by his grandparents and met the NAACP leaders his grandmother often had over.
The book follows him through college and his growing nonviolent activism for peace and racial equality. We learn, too, that he was gay, and that this could have meant losing job, friends, and family. Although his family supported him, many others didn’t, including some African American leaders and White lawmakers. Nevertheless, he shared his ideas on nonviolence with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., shaping the direction of the Civil Rights Movement, and worked tirelessly to organize the March on Washington.
At the march itself, the crowds gathered, and Rustin, whom many had dismissed because he was gay, walked just behind Dr. King. He had carefully arranged the program for the march, including the singers, testament to his lifelong love of music. When Dr. King gave his “I have a dream” speech, Rustin stood in the background, as he often did, but then shared the demands of the march with the protestors—demands that would shape the landmark Civil Rights Act of 1964.
Rustin was indeed unsung, too long in the shadows of better-known Civil Rights leaders. Weatherford and Sanders now sing his praises—and take the concept to another level with suggestions for songs on each spread, drawn from the Civil Rights movement and Black spirituals. On the page about his childhood, for example, it tells us, “Sing ‘Pray On,’ to call on the hopes of the ancestors.” On the page about his peaceful activism, we read, “Sing ‘Down by the Riverside’ to advocate for peace.” At the march, suggested songs include “Walk Together, Children” and “We Shall Overcome”—and there are many more. It’s a powerful, interactive approach to bring readers into the story. The words of the songs are not included (this would likely have made the book much more expensive), but are easily found online (and many readers’ families and communities may know them already).
Debut illustrator and long-time graphic designer Byron McCray’s paint-and-collage illustrations are textured and bold, adding to the story’s strong appeal.
This book sits at the older end of the picture book age range for the amount of text and complexity of vocabulary (“committed,” “orchestrated,” etc.) but nevertheless feels clear and understandable for these young readers. Extensive backmatter includes some additional biographical information, a timeline, a History of Peaceful Protest, a copy of the official program for the march, its demands, a note on “The Music Behind the Movement,” and suggestions for further reading.
This is not the first picture book biography of Rustin to mention that he was gay; J. P. Miller’s Leaders Like Us: Bayard Rustin does, too. A Song for the Unsung does a better job, though, at showing the intersection of his identities and how this impacted him. Leaders Like Us: Bayard Rustin skews perhaps a little younger in its simplicity, but also feels a little drier; A Song for the Unsung is a more moving testament to the man and his work, not only conveying the facts of his life but also helping readers emotionally connect with both the man and the spirit of the era. It’s a winning biography that deserves a place on every bookshelf.
