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Good night from Desoto State Park in Fort Payne, Alabama. As we approached, a hand-painted mural declared Fort Payne to be “Alabama’s Mountain Town.” The description is apt.
As we hiked today on the Laurel Falls and Lost Falls Trail Loop, the terrain reminded us of various mountains we loved. At first, it felt like Maine, with rocky trails and scrubby evergreens. Later it reminded us of Western Maryland, with its tall deciduous trees and thick carpet of fallen leaves. At times it felt like my beloved Berkshire woods as we climbed gentle hills with a stream plunging through.
We’ve been in towns and cities for the past week or so. It felt good to get back into the countryside today, and back on the trail. The sun was out after two straight weeks of rain, sleet, and snow. We’d almost forgotten how simple a pleasure the blue sky can be.
The going was soggy as we marched through the woods. Dumbles was in heaven as he raced between the six of us, trying to be everywhere at once.
When we ask the kids we meet in the schools what makes them happiest, easily half say “family.”
That would be my answer, too. So grateful for this crew and this time we get together.
#busloadofbooks
The Daily Minute: 1.3.23
In which our spirits are high as the sun shines down on the mountains of northeast Alabama.
#busloadofbooks
Hi Friends! Today we’re in Alabama, whose official flower is the camellia (they smell SO good), official dance is the squaredance, and state motto is Share the Wonder.
Alabama also has a state language — English. A few over half the US states have an official language. On a federal level, though, the US has none. Many people speak English, but there are actually more than 400 languages spoken and signed within our country! And nearly 200 of these are indigenous.
Although Alabama’s past, as with much of the South, has at times been fraught with injustice, it, because of this, also gave rise to many champions of difference and equality.
Many strides for the Civil Rights movement were made in AL — it was in Montgomery, for example, that Rosa Parks refused to relinquish her seat on the bus to the white man demanding it.
Actually, not many know that a few months before Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat, another woman, only 15, did the same, and was arrested — her name was Claudette Colvin, an activist in her own right.
Jesse Owens, the inspiring four-time 1936 Berlin Olympics track-and-field gold-medalist, came from AL, too, as did Helen Keller, the author and disability rights activist, a founding member of the American Civil Liberties Union, and the first deafblind woman in the US to earn a BA.
AL also has a diverse environment — in fact, the state is 70% forest and ranks 5th for biodiversity!
In fact, AL has an odd monument to the boll weevil, a destructive critter which used to devour cotton farms. This forced AL to diversify its crops, which ended up being better for the land itself.
On the industry side of things, up in Huntsville, you'll find the US Space and Rocket Center — the largest spaceflight museum in the world. Saturn V, the rocket that powered the Apollo 11 mission to the moon, was built nearby.
Oh yeah, and on the subject of flights — apparently, when airline luggage is truly lost, and all efforts to return it to its original owners fail, it ends up in Scottsboro, AL. The Unclaimed Baggage Center sells the luggage contents as if it were a thrift store. Which is actually wild.
The Daily Minute: 1.2.23
In which Jasper reports on his very good day at Madison Cross Roads Elementary.
#busloadofbooks
Good night from Huntsville Alabama, where we spent the day at Madison Cross Roads Elementary School. We had another wonderful day with an amazing group of students and teachers (and an extraordinary principal). I’ll share the full story soon.
But tonight, my heart is full from meeting Grayson, a kindergartner with a beaming smile and bursting heart.
He was included in the small group of kids who’d been invited to eat lunch with us.
Grayson was so excited to meet us, so excited to get his book, so excited to tell us about himself and ask questions.
Because he was still learning how to write, I worked with him as he answered our three questions.
What’s your favorite meal? “Burgers and fries.”
What makes you happiest? “You guys.” (meaning Robbi and me). When pressed to say what *else* makes him happy: “My family gives me a good feeling.”
What would he change about the world to make it better? “No work so we can be free.”
Grayson was funny and sweet and self-possessed. At one point he cracked a joke and everyone in the room laughed. He’s a special kid. I’m so glad we got a chance to meet him.
When the time came to say goodbye, Grayson asked if we could be “forever friends.” When I agreed, he showed me how it worked. We sealed the pact by linking fingers. And then he went back to class, and I got back in the bus. It was bittersweet heartbreak.
I hope we make a lasting impression on some of these kids. But I want you to know that some of these kids make a lasting impression on me. I’ll always remember Grayson’s sparkle and smile and the hour we spent together.
That’s what forever friends do.
#busloadofbooks.
Five months into the tour, the map is filling up. We’ve visited 33 schools, handed out roughly 16,000 books, and driven 16,731 miles.
January was a month to remember. We woke on New Year’s Day to a glimpse of the Pacific then weathered an atmospheric river in San Francisco. We met creator heroes Lemony Snicket and Raina Telgemeier, rode a steam train in a ghost town, saw Cirque du Soleil, and strolled the Vegas strip. We drove through a blizzard in Arizona and rode a helicopter into the Grand Canyon. We watched a cattle drive in Fort Worth, found fossils in Mineral Wells, and were not abducted by aliens in Roswell.
We’ve visited school after school full of educators working tirelessly on behalf of their students. To honor their efforts, we’ve been sharing the many good things happening in these schools. But the communities we’re visiting are beset with challenges that remain when the bus pulls away.
Kids suffering from hunger, homelessness, and trauma. Students grappling with having lost family members to violence, drugs, and Covid.
It’s hard to teach a kid to read when they’re exhausted from watching their siblings while their mom works three jobs—or because they’ve been placed in a foster home because both parents are struggling with addiction. Imagine having to navigate these situations at age eight and then be expected to learn your times tables.
Poverty is the underlying problem. Not the schools. Not the teachers. Not the kids.
Gross inequity creates intractable crises our schools are being asked to handle. They get so little credit for their efforts and come under fire when the challenges they inherit are seen as problems they’re not solving.
Our nation’s 47,000+ Title I schools are being asked to do much more than teach academic subjects. They’re also serving as community clinics and food banks, dispensing clothing and mental health services. We must fund them as such—and provide the staff and training needed to address the host of challenges they face.
Otherwise, we’re setting educators up for failure or burnout or both. Is this the kind of country we want to be? Asking for 16,000 new friends.
#busloadofbooks
The Daily Minute: 2.1.23
In which we eschew the rustic campground in favor of a six-minute chicken sandwich.
#busloadofbooks
It was cold when we pulled up to Maynard Elementary early Monday morning. An ice storm was heading our way.
We were greeted by speech therapist Melinda Harris and Principal Lori Steimel, who led us inside and showed us the great work they’d been doing to prepare for our visit. Melinda had created two projects to introduce students to the concepts in our books.
There was a wall of “Arkansas Wonders”, where the younger kids could share drawings of places in their home state that fill them with wonder. The older kids were asked to find similes and metaphors on the pages of Cookie of Doom. Principal Steimel created a contest in which future authors would write and illustrate books. This kind of vision and effort turns a one-day author visit into something with much greater impact.
The plan was to spend the afternoon touring the 1890's log cabin in Maynard’s Pioneer Park. As we were setting up for our presentation, Mayor Dennis Kerley came to apologize that our tour would have to be canceled because of the storm.
The thoughtfulness continued. Local realtor (and fellow author) Jana Caldwell came to present us with a basket of Arkansas treasures, teacher Cassie Riles Damon brought a bag of treats for Dumbles, and Melinda had a Maynard Tigers t-shirt made for Read Teddy.
As the skies grew darker, the sun shone bright inside. The school had printed up a bunch of Maynard-themed Busload of Books Tour t-shirts for students and teachers. The halls were alive with excitement and pride.
The teachers provided a pot luck for the ages: spaghetti casserole, chili, taco soup, and a bounty of desserts. We ate and talked to a small group of kids about their dreams. Wyatt would make the world better by extending hunting season. Others wanted homes for the homeless, free healthcare, and to make it rain chickens. A better world is possible, friends.
Eventually, we had to leave. Not because we wanted to but because school was closing early on account of freezing rain. We pulled out of Maynard with full bellies and hearts and a bunch of new friends, confident we’re the luckiest people in the world.
www.busloadofbooks.com
We spent yesterday in Tupelo, Mississippi, the town where Elvis Presley was born—but more importantly, where our friend Frances grew up.
I woke early and did some writing, then Frances took me to Connie’s Chicken, where I was treated to the finest chicken and biscuit sandwich I’ve ever had—and the greatest donut. I’m considering a move to Tupelo if only to eat these things more often.
After our mid-year homeschool review with the folks back home (all four children passed; thanks Jill!), Frances took us to visit the 300-square-foot house where Elvis was born. Just a bedroom and a kitchen, the house stands where it did on January 8, 1935. Elvis lived there for three years until his dad was jailed for passing a bad check.
After becoming famous, Elvis returned to Tupelo to give a concert. Instead of accepting a fee, he asked the town to purchase the house and surrounding land to build a museum. Frances grew up before the museum was built. The softball field where she played backed up to the house, an incidental fixture of her childhood.
We stopped at Tupelo Hardware where Elvis purchased his first guitar and got to talk to the grandson of the man who sold it to him. Elvis’ mom wanted to buy him a bicycle and Elvis was lobbying for a rifle. The guitar was a fortuitous compromise.
Frances took us to Reed’s, the department store her family has run since 1905. Reed’s is a beloved Tupelo institution with a mission to support the community. In addition to selling clothing, Reed’s has a bookstore where we were honored to find our titles shelved.
We had dinner at Frances’ mom’s house, where her extended family was gathered for bus tours, book signings, and a delicious meal.
We’ve always loved Frances because of who she is, but we’re glad to know her even better in the context of her home. As we walked around town, her stories added texture and depth. She knew everyone. And everyone loved her.
One of the recurring themes of this tour is the pride people take in the places they love—and the connections that make towns more than dots on a map.
Communities come alive when seen from the inside. We’re grateful for this peek into the hearts of Tupelo.
The Daily Minute: 1.31.23
In which we visit the hardware store where Elvis bought his first guitar.
#busloadofbooks
Good night from Tupelo, Mississippi, where we’re spending the night with one of our very favorite people, our friend Frances Clayton, who grew up here and still has lots of family in the area. We’ve heard Frances talk about Tupelo for years, and we’re excited to finally visit, and especially to be here with her. Tonight we shared pizza and stories. Tomorrow we’ll visit Elvis’ birthplace.
We spent the day with the wonderful people of Maynard Elementary School in Maynard, Arkansas. We talked books, got hugs, ate potluck and made it out of town just before an ice storm arrived. We’ll share the full story after we get a good night’s sleep.
Tonight we’re in sleeping actual beds, taking actual showers, doing laundry, and giving the bus a night off. I hope it enjoys the alone time.
#busloadofbooks
The Daily Minute: 1.30.23
In which we bid farewell to the wonderful folks at Maynard Elementary.
#busloadofbooks
Isabel reporting! Today’s state is home to my new favorite demonyms: Arkansan, Arkansaywer, Arkanite.
The Arkansas state flower is the apple blossom, state beverage is (what else?) milk, and the state food is pecan! This Land of Opportunity even has a state dino: the Arkansaurus Fridayi.
What folks in other parts of the country call a “soda,” “pop,” or (like me) “soft drink,” Arkansawyers call “coke” — yep, even Sprite!
Today, Arkansas is the only state that mines diamonds. In fact, the largest diamond found in North America — the Uncle Sam diamond — came from AR in what is now Crater of Diamonds State Park. This is one of the only diamond mines in the world where visitors can keep what they find!
A little north, you’ll find Hot Springs, where the waters reach 140*F. Its baths have had famed visitors from the mobster Al Capone and president FDR to baseball legend Babe Ruth!
AR was once called the Toothpick State. In the 1800s many residents carried daggers in their belts. These had many uses, but were politely (or ironically!) referred to as “toothpicks.”
In 1899, author Ernest Hemingway was born. Although he travelled the world, he spent portions of the 1920s and ‘30s in AR, where he penned A Farewell to Arms. The story goes that, when a fire broke out in 1932, he salvaged his manuscripts by throwing them out of the second-floor window!
Not all history is made so easily.
After Brown v Board of Education, which ruled segregation in schools was unconstitutional, Little Rock Central High in AR, like 1000s of others, was desegregated. The Little Rock Nine made history for Civil Rights when they attended school despite horrible treatment; the AR government was actively unsupportive of integration (going so far as to send the state national guard to prevent the entry of Black students into the school). President Eisenhower had to call in federal troops to protect the children’s historic entry into the school.
Recalling this all-too-recent time in our country’s history served, for me, as a reminder that every day I got to spend peacefully in school was and is a privilege — a blessing — and reinforced the belief that school should be a *right* for all.
Goodnight from Maynard, Arkansas, where we’re parked in the driveway of Jackie and Jerry Songer, who we met about two hours ago but already consider friends. Jackie teaches first grade at Maynard Elementary, where we’ll be spending the day tomorrow. She volunteered to host us for the night.
We woke this morning at our campground and decided to hike to the nearby town of Hot Springs. I asked a ranger for directions and he directed me to follow the path and cross the stream. We followed the path, but the recent boisterous rains made the stream impassible. Did we give up? Have you met Robbi?
The hike was billed as “an easy walk into town”, but whoever wrote those words must have been extremely hardy. We climbed up and down again and again. It was a lovely hike, but by the time we got to town, we all were tired.
I’d worn my swimsuit in anticipation of sitting in the springs. But when we arrived, the springs in question were clearly the type for merely looking at. The sitting springs were located in a series of historic bath houses we lacked the time to visit. So I stared at the springs longingly and forgot to take a photo.
The bus was now two miles away and the children were too weary to re-climb the many hills, so Dumbles and I jogged back to the campground. It was nice to get a bit of exercise. I’ve missed it on this trip. We were briefly chased by three dogs but escaped unscathed. We got the bus, picked up the others, and were on our way.
We drove three hours to Maynard, passing through flooded woods and fields. Eventually we arrived at Jackie and Jerry’s house, which is just down the street from the school. Jackie fed us pasta that someone had cooked for our family—a graduate of Maynard elementary who now has kids at the school.
Jerry, a former coach, showed us his sports memorabilia, including the trophy from the season his women’s basketball team went 31-0 en route to the state championship. He also showed us the sign his dad, a musician, used to hang at clubs on nights he was performing.
Another day. More wonderful folks generously inviting us into their lives. I will never get tired of this.
#busloadofbooks
The Daily Minute: 1.29.23
In which Matthew caves to social pressure and opts not to jump in the hot springs.
#busloadofbooks
On Friday, we visited Jack C. Binion Elementary in Richland Hills, Texas. It was seven straight hours of astonishment and love.
I’m not sure where to start. Was it the enormous sign to welcome Dumbles? The balloon rainbow over the cafeteria door? The tour-themed student art that lined every wall? Or was it the welcome parade, where we were led by cheerleaders from the local high school down a hallway lined with 700 kids laughing and cheering and shouting “Busload of Books! Busload of Books!”?
Our day at Binion shows that one person working with vision and purpose can move mountains. Seeing an opportunity, librarian Chatty Chapman motivated her entire community to prepare for our visit. The students made banners and posters. They wrote letters and fortunes. They created beautiful art inspired by our books.
The music teacher composed a song to accompany a reading of our picture book Everywhere, Wonder. As dozens of kids played xylophone, they sang the book’s key message in refrain: “You never know what you might see, or where your mind might take you. So keep your eyes wide open as you go.”
Yes, we felt like rock stars. But that’s not the point. The point is the kids felt like rock stars had come to their school, that they had been chosen for something important. They felt special and ecstatic. They held up their books with excitement and pride.
What a gift to spend the day with seven hundred people just beginning their lives. To see their creations and hear about their dreams. To share laughter and hugs. To tap into that heightened state of being that’s only possible when we band together in collective celebration.
All of us were floating a few inches above the ground, holding each other up. This is how every day should be.
For at least some of the kids, we hope the day sparks a fire that continues to grow long after the bus pulls away. An excitement to read, to create, to see the world as wider than they realized before.
We’re hopeful, friends. You can see it in their eyes, that light, bending in the direction of possibility.
There’s no more powerful force in the world.
#busloadofbooks
Good Night from Gulpha Gorge Campground in Hot Springs, Arkansas. We’re parked about ten feet from a waterfall, but we can’t even hear it on account of the driving rain.
It was raining when we woke this morning on the banks of Wright Patman Lake in Texarkana Texas, and it rained as we lounged in the back of the bus, waiting for the rain to stop so we could go mine for diamonds in Murfreesboro, Arkansas. But the rain did not stop, so we lounged much longer than we’d planned to.
We rolled out of our still-soggy campground around 1:30pm and drove two hours in the rain. The mine in Crater of Diamonds State Park closes at 5pm, so we’d have at least an hour to pull untold riches from the gravelly mud. Our fortunes would be made.
We stopped for gas and bathroom breaks and arrived at the mine at 3:58pm. While I parked the bus, Robbi rushed inside to sign us up. She was so excited. It was something she’d been looking forward to for more than a year. The kids and I had just slipped into our raincoats when Robbi came slumping back out to the bus. As it turns out, the mine had closed at 4pm. Robbi’s dreams were dashed.
In search of distraction, we headed to downtown Murfreesboro, where we admired the piles of glass slag piled outside an antique shop. It gleamed in the rain. We went into the general store in search of something to eat and emerged with pickled quail eggs. They were unexpectedly tasty. But they did not constitute a proper meal.
Robbi consulted her phone and discovered a restaurant called The Purple Cow in Hot Springs, Arkansas, the town where we’re camping tonight. Our college mascot was the Purple Cow, and so we paid eager tribute, consuming enormous burgers and purple milkshakes.
Finally full, we drove to our campground, where it continues to rain without apology.
Believe it or not, we leave for Hawaii one week from tomorrow. Between now and then, we have four states to cross, two schools to visit, and 569 miles to drive.
How many raindrops will we endure along the way? I’d really like to know.
#busloadofbooks
The Daily Minute: 1.28.23
In which we find no diamonds and deliver the definitive verdict on pickled quail eggs.
#busloadofbooks
In which Alden takes you back till late September in western Massachusetts, when Dumbles attempts to cross a rocky stream and we visit MASS MoCa.
#busloadofbooks
In which Matthew’s attempt to point out Robbi’s questionable choice of footwear backfires in profound-yet-predictable fashion.
#busloadofbooks
The Busload of Books Tour is a yearlong project to promote literacy and raise awareness of the challenges facing our nation’s public schools.
Author/illustrator duo Matthew Swanson and Robbi Behr (that’s us) and our four kids are spending the 2022-2023 school year traveling the country in a school bus/tiny home, visiting Title I schools in all 50 states (plus DC), and giving away 25,000 hardcover books to students and teachers from underserved communities.
Along the way, we’ll be conducting a major research project, making a picture book about America, and inviting our followers to join us on a yearlong exploration of our country’s unsung wonders and off-the-beaten-path communities.
