Their Eyes Were Watching God
It’s sure enough a pleasure to turn a spell with Janie and Joe and Tea Cake. I love to hear the folks playing the dozens on the store porch. I love the mule funeral. I delight in Janie’s struggle to find freedom from the multiple oppressions of her situation, to find the freedom to love. Zora Neale was a special soul and I’m hoping to find plenty of room for her during our winter Harlem Renaissance school Expedition.