Williams-Garcia: Hello. I'm Rita Williams-Garcia, author of One Crazy Summer. I always knew I'd write about the 1960s and the Black Panthers. Imagine being 10 and finding out one of your relatives is a Black Panther, and they just hijacked a plane. It was a crazy and important period that ignited change across the nation. Everyday people became activists demanding change, equality, and basic civil and human rights for all. Especially for the black and the poor.

One activist group very visible in my neighborhood but absent from American history were the Black Panthers. Since I experienced those times as a child, I chose a child to tell this story, one who would've attended the liberation schools, eaten at the free breakfast programs, and had sickle cell anemia testing, all watched as their parents were being arrested. Children were indeed there.

In One Crazy Summer, sisters Delphine, Fanetta, and Fern fly from New York to Oakland to meet their poet mother who's also involved with the Black Panthers. Their mother, Cecile, abandoned them many years ago. You'd think such a mother would be glad to see her daughters, or at least be sorry she abandoned them. With that, I'll begin my reading where Delphine, Fanetta, and Fern have just told Cecile they were hungry after their long flight.

She said, "What do you want from me?"

"Supper." I answered. "It's past eight o'clock. We haven't had real food since breakfast with Big Ma and Papa." I kept going, "that was," I glanced at my wrist, "nine hours and 12 minutes ago."

Fanetta next. "Airline food don't count."

Fern last. "Surely don't."

She was still looking down at us if we'd thrown a monkey wrench into her quiet Tuesday evening, then she spoke.

"Where's the money your father gave you?"

I crossed my arms. There was no way she was getting our money.

"That money's for Disneyland." I told her. "To go on all the rides, and meet Tinkerbell."

This was the first time we heard Cecile laugh, and she laughed like the crazy mother she was turning out to be.

"Is Tinkerbell gonna feed you?" She was still laughing. We didn't think she was funny. We said nothing rather than talk back and get slapped. "Look," she said, "if you wanna eat, hand over the money."

I stared her down, something I'd never try with Big Ma. Cecile didn't seem to care. She said, "fine, I got plenty air sandwiches here. Go on back to the room, open your mouth, and catch one."