Thick at the schoolgate are the ones 
Rage has twisted 
Into minotaurs, harpies 
Relentlessly swift; 
So you must walk past the pincers, 
The swaying horns, 
Sister, sister, 
Straight through the gusts 
Of fear and fury, 
Straight through; 
Where are you going? 

I’m just going to school. 

Here we go to meet 
The hydra-headed day, 
Here we go to meet 
The maelstrom - 

Can my voice be an angel-on-the-spot, 
An Amen corner? 
Can my voice take you there, 
Gallant girl with a notebook, 
Up, up from the shadows of gallows trees 
To the other shore: 
A globe bathed in light, 
A chalkboard blooming with equations - 

I have never seen the likes of you, 
Pioneer in dark glasses: 
You won’t show the mob your eyes, 
But I know your gaze, 
Steady-on-the-North-Star, burning - 

With their jerry-rigged faith, 
Their spear of the American flag, 
How could they dare to believe 
You’re someone sacred?: 
Nigger, burr-headed girl, 
Where are you going? 

I’m just going to school.

- “Soul Make a Path through Shouting
for Elizabeth Eckford
Little Rock Arkansas, 1957”