Lena and the Burning of Greenwood: A Tulsa Race Massacre Survival Story

By Nikki Shannon Smith and Markia Jenai

In the early 1920s, the Greenwood District in Tulsa, Oklahoma, is the wealthiest Black community in the United States. But Tulsa is still a segregated city. “Black Wall Street” and white Tulsa are very much divided. Twelve-year-old Lena knows this, but she feels safe and sheltered from the racism in her successful, flourishing neighborhood. That all changes when Dick Rowland, a young Black man from Greenwood, is accused of assaulting a white woman. Racial tensions boil over. Mobs of white citizens attack Greenwood, terrorizing Black residents and businesses, and forcing many—including Lena and her family—to flee. Now Lena must help her family survive one of the worst incidents of racial violence in American history. Readers can learn the real story of the Tulsa Race Massacre from the nonfiction backmatter, including a glossary, discussion questions, writing prompts, and author's note, in this Girls Survive story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Capstone Young Readers
• Release date: Jan 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781666329469

Nikki Shannon Smith

Nikki Shannon Smith is from Oakland, California, but she now lives in the Central Valley with her husband and two children. She has worked in Elementary Education for over twenty-five years, and writes everything from picture books to young adult novels. When she’s not busy with family, work, or writing, she loves to visit the coast. The first thing she packs in her suitcase is always a book.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Greenwood, Oklahoma

Memorial Day

May 30, 1921

9:00 a.m.

I stood at the living room window and stared up at the dark gray clouds in the sky. Moody. That’s what the weather was.

I’d been hoping for a sunny Memorial Day. I’d been hoping Mama and Daddy might surprise me and my big sister, Cora, with a trip to downtown Tulsa for the Memorial Day parade.

Looks like the only surprise will be rain, I thought.

Daddy came into view from the side of the house where he had been trimming the roses. He smiled and waved at me. Daddy loved his roses.

Mama, I called, still staring out the window, do you think they’ll still have the parade even if it rains?

In the kitchen, Mama shut off the faucet. A few seconds later, she appeared in the living room. I don’t know, Lena. Probably.

Cora, who sat in an armchair in the corner of the living room, closed the book on her lap. She kept her finger in there to mark her page. Cora’s nose was always in a book.

I bet they will, she said.

I looked over at her. I hadn’t realized she was listening, but I hoped she was right.

Just then, Daddy came in through the front door. He handed Mama some fresh cut roses.

I sighed. I wish we could go.

Go where? asked Daddy.

To the Memorial Day parade, I said.

I had never been to downtown Tulsa. In fact, I had never left Greenwood. The only things I knew about life outside the Greenwood District were the things I had heard from my friends at school.

My parents glanced at each other. Sometimes I thought they had a secret eyeball language only they understood. I waited for one of them to say something.

There’s nothing for us in downtown Tulsa, said Mama finally. No shops open to us and no bathrooms we can use. Black people are second-class citizens there.

I frowned. I knew Tulsa was segregated, but I was still curious. I wanted to see it at least once.

We have everything we need right here in Greenwood, Daddy added. No need to go anywhere else. We have our own little slice of America. He chuckled. "That’s why Booker T. Washington called it Negro Wall Street."

Even though I hadn’t seen anything but Greenwood, I knew it was special. The entire Greenwood District was about thirty-five blocks and had some of everything. We had our own schools and libraries, hotels, restaurants, a skating rink, a theater, a post office, and even a brand-new church called Mount Zion.

I looked at Cora. She opened her book and started reading again. Daddy was always talking about how great Greenwood was. He loved to tell us about how Negroes had settled here and built it from the ground up into the richest, most successful Black community in the country.

Cora never seemed interested. She was sixteen, four years older than me, and her mind was on two things: getting into Tuskegee and getting out of Greenwood. Going to college in Alabama gave her the perfect reason.

Daddy went on. Greenwood has its own spirit, he said. "It’s in the town, but it lives inside the people. You know people have actually walked to Greenwood from other states? That’s how great it is!" he said.

Usually, I liked to listen to Daddy’s stories about Greenwood, but not today. Today, I wanted to go to the parade.

Cora had told me all about it before we fell asleep last night. She had heard about it from a friend at school whose daddy was a landscaper in downtown Tulsa.

They’re selling silk poppies straight from France, Cora had said. Hundreds of them. There’s going to be a motorcycle escort and a seventy-piece marching band. And I heard some of the ladies in town are buying new spring dresses just for the parade.

I looked out the window again. There wasn’t going to be any band marching down Greenwood Avenue. And Daddy’s roses were pretty, but they sure weren’t silk.

Daddy clapped his hands. "Tell you what. We can have our own little parade in our own