Interac...

[47] We moved into our new apartment today, and it's bigger than the house we had in Mississippi. There are two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, a dining room, and a bathroom!

[48] Mostly white residents live in this neighborhood, and we will be one of the few Negro families. Not everyone was welcoming when we arrived. A white mother and son were standing on the sidewalk as Mama and I carried a couple of our bags into the building. The mother frowned at us just like Mr. Greenfield used to, then the son stuck out his tongue and spit on the ground near our feet.

[49] Mama put an arm around me and hurried us both inside. As we climbed the three flights to our apartment, she said, "Even though things are different here, some things will still be the same. We will have to face them the best that we can." I nodded to show her that I understood.

[50] The idea that discrimination wasn't only in the South made me sad, but I felt better when I saw my new bedroom. I still had to share it with Mary and Buck, but it was bigger than our old room, and it had a set of bunk beds! Buck was too scared to sleep on the top bed, and Mary didn't care. I took the top bunk, and I love it already! I decided to keep this journal tucked underneath my new mattress where no one will find it.

[51] Today was a special day—I went to a library for the first time! I have to write a current events report for school, so my new friend Sally said we should go to the library to look through newspapers for research. My mouth dropped open when she made the suggestion. I almost said that Negroes aren't allowed to go to the library, but then I remembered that things are different in California.

[52] After school, Sally and I walked to a library that was a few blocks away. When I stepped inside, I stopped and stared in amazement. I had never seen so many books in one place! Everywhere I looked, there were shelves and shelves filled with books. The shelves stretched up to the ceiling and were so high that ladders leaned against them, so the librarians could climb up to the top shelves.

[53] Even though there's no segregation, there weren't many other Negroes at the library. That's probably because mostly white people live and work in this community. The librarian who greeted us at the front desk looked a little surprised to see me walk in. I felt uncomfortable at first, and worried that she might frown like Mr. Greenfield and some of my white neighbors do. But the librarian broke into a smile and asked us what we needed. She helped us find just the right articles for our report.

[54] It's Thanksgiving Day, so we all have the day off. Last night, Daddy brought home a surprise: a radio! We've never had a radio of our own. This morning, we listened to news about the war. Daddy and Mama are proud that their work helps the soldiers. The money they make helps us, too. We have a nice home, and we don't have worry about Mr. Greenfield or boll weevils anymore.

[55] I should stop writing and help with Thanksgiving dinner. Uncle Eugene is on his way over. So is another Negro family who moved into the building. Like us, the Johnsons left the segregated South to find a better life in the West.

[56] It's funny that this time last year all of us were living thousands of miles away. Not everything is perfect in Los Angeles. Sometimes, white people are friendly to us, and sometimes they aren't. It's hard not knowing what to expect, but this is our home now. And at the moment, I can't think of anywhere that I would rather be.