02x15 - Black History Month

[bunniefuu]

[Music]

what's the story amigos this is kino

with some cool stories for today's story

time

first malcolm jamal warner reads an

african story about an

old old man and a little boy

inside this old old man

he said lives a very

little boy

then it's the story of a little boy who

wanted to learn to read

i think there's a secret in those books

and denise nicholas reads about a

special summer in knoxville

tennessee i always like

summer best story time is made possible

by a grant from helen and peter bean

so that families everywhere can share

the joy of reading with their children

[Music]

there we have keno's favorite

kathy's favorite and your favorite yeah

right um

hi we're here oh hi cathy hi quinoa

hi hey who's in the mood for a peanut

butter and cr*cker sundae

oh i am i am too ooh

my favorite peanut butter and raisins

there you go oh and my favorites

peanut butter bananas and chocolate

sprinkles

oh and my favorite peanut butter and

pickles

oh it's really good really i'm sure it

is

i'm so sure i don't even need to try it

well my favorite is just good old plain

old goober butter

goober butter so it's peanut butter

goober is an african word for peanut

hmm cooper i think i like that word

better than peanuts

me too and i brought a story with me

that takes place in africa

you guys want to hear it yeah yeah

uh-huh okay now

you know it's february and february is

black history month and that's when we

celebrate

the history and the stories of african

americans and this african story is

called

the old old man and the very little boy

it's written by christine l franklin and

illustrated by terea schaefer

okay all right you guys ready yeah wow

[Music]

once there was an old old man

his hair was the color of the clouds

his face was wrinkled and as brown

as the deep garden soil

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his feet were tough and wide and his old

toes

spread like stubby fingers because he

had

always walked barefoot wherever he went

each morning when the sun made enough

light to warm his bones

the old old man sat on a stump and

waited

the women of the village passed him on

their way to dig in the gardens

[Music]

will the rains come soon old father

asked the young woman in a loud voice

old old man closed his eyes

and nodded wisely

[Music]

soon it will rain shouted the women with

great smiles

they walked down the trail singing about

sunshine and rain

and all the things that make life good

[Music]

the young men gathered around to sharpen

their spears

they chanted magic spells and sang

hunting songs

and though the old old man knew all of

the spells

and all of the songs he kept silent

when we find food old father asked one

young man

the old old man closed his eyes

and nodded wisely full bellies tonight

shouted the young men

they left for the forest singing about

sharp spears and roasted meat

and all of the things that make life

good

good morning oh father said a bright

little voice

but to the old old man it sounded like

the twittering of a bird

good morning old father said the voice a

little

louder and the old man knew who it was

it was a very little boy who came to sit

with him

every day mother sent this

said the boy as he unfolded a banana

leaf

inside was a roasted sweet potato

the old old man ate the potato

slowly

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most of his teeth were gone

he lit his fingers one by one

and politely smacked his lips when he

was done

ah each day began like this

tell me a story the little boy begged in

a loud voice

for the old old man could scarcely hear

the old old man smiled a wide

toothless grin and closed his eyes

[Music]

when i was young and proud

he always began his voice was as dry as

the dust

he told the same tales again and again

but the little boy never grew tired of

them

the old old man told stories

of hunting and bravery and the sweetness

of

love the little boy danced in the dirt

before him

he yelled as he whirled and hopped and

threw sticks at a tree

the old old man smiled sweetly

and remembered many things

[Music]

were you ever a little boy old father

the little boy asked one day the old old

man

laughed a crackly laugh

come close he whispered

the little boy leaned over and listened

the old old man thumped his chest with a

leathery fist

inside this old old man

he said lives a very

little boy

the little boy laughed and laughed

it was the funniest thing he ever heard

the old man laughed too

until one silver tear

trickled down his wrinkled cheek

soon the sun plunged toward the western

horizon

and the little boy's mother came for him

[Music]

good night old father said the little

boy tomorrow we will laugh again

tomorrow said the old old man

you will be too old to sit with me

the little boy laughed as he walked down

the trail with his mother

he knew he would never be old

[Music]

around and around the seasons danced

wet and dry wet and dry

the old old man and the very little boy

laughed and sing and enchanted magic

spells together

and the boy grew like a banana tree

then one day the boy's father gave him a

spear of his very own

today you will hunt with the men said

his father

see my beautiful spear shot at the boy

as he passed the old old man on the way

to the forest

the old old man smiled

and nodded wisely

from that time on the boy saw his friend

every morning before the hunt but he did

not sit with the old

old man again

one gray rainy day the old

old man died and rested with the others

who had died before him

at first the boy missed the old old man

but the seasons chased each other as

they always had

and he forgot his friend

the boy learned to throw a spear and

sh**t an arrow

and soon he was a young man

the young man hunted and danced with the

other young men

and told stories by the fire each night

when it was time to take a wife he chose

the finest girl in the village to be his

bride

the seasons changed twice

and their first child was born

then many seasons passed and there were

many children

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and the man was proud and brave and life

was good

many more years passed

and one day the man left the hunting to

the younger men

for he only wanted to sit on the old

stump

and warm himself in the sun

soon the little boys gathered at his

feet

a story old father a story the littlest

boy cried

and the old man placed the boy on the

stump beside him

when i was young and proud

he began and the boys were quiet

and the smooth breeze carried his old

voice across the village

as he told tales of hunts and battles

and sang songs of bravery and love

will you ever a little boy ask the

littlest boy

the old man chuckled and coughed and

slapped his bare legs with both hands

i will tell you a secret he whispered

and the little boys gathered near to

listen

inside this old old man

is a very little boy

the boys laughed and laughed their

mouths were wide open with joy

you were old yesterday and the day

before and the day before

said one of the little boys you are the

oldest man we

know we see your wrinkled face

said one boy we see your rough hands

said another boy we see your wide feet

said another you have been old for a

long time

said the littlest boy you have been

old forever

the old old man grinned a toothless grin

and shook his finger at the boys

tomorrow he said

you will understand tomorrow

you will be old men just like me

the little boys laughed and laughed as

they danced in the dirt before him

they knew they would never be old

the old old man laughed too

until one silver tear trickled down his

wrinkle cheek

with a crooked finger he wiped away the

tear

and smiled and remembered

many things

[Music]

deep within his old old heart

a very little boy was dancing in the

dirt

[Music]

the end huh

gee that was a great story the old man

told the little boy stories about when

he was young

and when the little boy got old he did

the same thing

yeah he told stories to all the children

about when he was young

yeah and that's one way we remember

history isn't it

i mean older people remember all the

things that have happened to them

and they tell younger people and the

stories get passed from the old to the

young

yep yep when africans were brought to

this country as sl*ves many years ago

they brought their stories with them but

sl*ves weren't allowed to learn to read

or write so they had to tell their

stories out loud

and that didn't really change for a long

time

even after sl*very ended wow that wasn't

fair at all

no it wasn't but there was one very

famous

african-american named booker t

washington who was determined to learn

how to read and write

here's a book about when he was a little

boy a long

long time ago and he did just that

the book is called more than anything

else story is by marie bradby

pictures by chris k soon pete

[Music]

before light while the stars still

twinkle

papa my brother john and i leave our

cabin

and take the main road out of town

headed to work

the road hugs the ridge between the

kanawha river

and the mountain we traveled it by

lantern

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my stomach rumbles for we had no morning

meal

but it isn't really a meal i want though

i would not turn one down

more than anything else i want to learn

to read

but for now i must work

from sun up to sun down we pack salt and

barrels at the salt works

[Music]

a white mountain of salt rises above

papa's head

all day long we shovel it but it refused

to grow smaller

we stop only to grab a bite sweet

potatoes and corn cakes that papa has

brought along in this coat pocket

as i eat every crumb of my meal i stare

at that white mountain

salt is heavy and rough the shiny white

crystals leave cuts

on your hands your arms your legs

the soles of your feet

[Music]

my arms ache from lifting the shovel but

i do not think about the pain there

i think about the hunger still in my

head

reading now i've seen some people

young and old do it i am nine years old

and

i know if i had a chance i could do it

too

i think there's a secret in those books

in the chill of the evening i follow

papa and john

back up the road stopping to catch a

frog

the frog wiggles and slips but i hold on

tight

and let go when i want to

[Music]

there is something different about this

place where we live now

all people are free to go where they

want and do what they can

book learning swims freely around in my

head

and i hold it as long as i want

back in town coal miners river men

loggers and coopers gather around the

corner

they are worn out as me but full of

tails

i see a man reading a newspaper aloud

and all doubt falls away

i have found hope and it is as brown as

me

i see myself the man

and as i watch his eyes move across the

paper

and as if i know what the black marks

mean as if i

am reading as if everyone is listening

to me

and i hold that thought in my hands

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i will work until i am the best reader

in the county children will crowd around

me

and i will teach them to read

but papa taps me on the shoulder come on

and john tugs at my shirt

they don't see what i see

[Music]

they don't see what i can be

[Music]

we hurry home mama i have to learn to

read i say

she holds my hand and feels my hunger

racing fast as my heart

[Music]

it is a small book

a blue the color of midnight

she gives it to me one evening in the

corner of our cabin

pulling it from under the clothes that

she washes and irons to make a little

money

[Music]

she doesn't say where she got it she

can't read it herself

but she knows this is something called

the alphabet she thinks it's a

singing kind of thing a song on paper

after work even though my shoulders

still ache

and my legs are stained with salt i

study my book

i stare at the marks and try to imagine

their song

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i draw the marks on the dirt floor and

try to figure out what sounds they make

what story their pictures tell

but sometimes i feel i'm trying to jump

without legs

and my thoughts get slippery and i can't

keep up with what i want to be

and how good i would feel when i learn

this magic and how

people will look up to me

i can't catch the tune of what i see

i get a salt shoveling pain and feel my

dreams are slipping away

i have got to find him that newspaper

man

i look everywhere

finally i find that brown face of hope

he tells me the song the sounds the

marks make

i jump up and down singing it i

shout and laugh like when i was baptized

in the creek

i have jumped into another world and i

am saved

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but i have to know more tell me more

i say what's your name he asks

booker i say and then he takes the sound

of my name

and draws it on the ground

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i linger over that picture

i know i can hold it forever

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the end whoa

so he learned how to read and write huh

he sure did

and he became a great teacher who wrote

many books and he started a famous

school named the tuskegee institute

it's in alabama wow and at the tuskegee

institute

another very famous african-american

george washington

carver figured out lots and lots of

brand new things that you could do with

peanuts

including make peanut butter whoa that's

cool

hey keno it's time for us to go to my

friend's house now

oh okay hey thanks malcolm and thanks

for the goober butter and pickle sundae

oh it's really good

really bye bye bye bye

[Music]

oh hi kathy hi denise

this is my friend kino he really really

loves stories

yeah i love him well good cause i've got

a very special one

only it's a poem oh well

i love them too good did you know that

this is black history month

oh yeah well we've been celebrating it

all day well

this poem kind of reminds me of my own

history

in my trips to the south and it's

written by a friend of mine nikki

giovanni

and it's called knoxville tennessee and

the illustrations

are by larry johnson

[Music]

i always like summer best

you can eat fresh corn

from daddy's garden

and okra and greens

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and cabbage

and lots of barbecue

and buttermilk and homemade

ice cream

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at the church picnic

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and listen to gospel music outside

at the church homecoming

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and go to the mountains with your

grandmother

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and go barefooted

and be warm all the time

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not only when you go to bed

and sleep

the end that was really good

yeah i liked it too well sharing stories

is how we pass

on our history from father or mother to

son or daughter

from friend to friend from relative to

relative

we can learn lots of important things

from our history

can't we yeah we can i've learned lots

of important stuff from my grandpa

and he sometimes tells me stuff that his

grandpa

told him there you go now i hope you

learn a lot this black history month

and i've selected a couple of story pics

to help you oh cool

the first one is called satchmo's blues

and it's the story of louis armstrong

and how his dream of playing the trumpet

came true

the second is a story of how zora

hurston listened to stories told to her

and went on to become a world-renowned

writer

and it's called zora hurston and the

china berry tree

well thanks a lot for the special poem

denise

yeah thanks history makes great stories

you're both very welcome and remember

keep your story in your heart bye-bye

[Music]

[Music]

today's story time books are the old old

man

and the very little boy

more than anything else

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knoxville tennessee

satchmo's blues

and zora hurston and the china berry

[Music]

tree

you can find these and other books at

your local library

story time is made possible by a grant

from helen and peter bean

so that families everywhere can share

the joy of reading with their children

[Music]

story time is production of kcet's los

angeles