In a few hours, my class of juniors will troop into class for our discussion of the last chapters of Morrison’s novel Song of Solomon.

This was not a book I was at all eager to teach because of the fraught subject matter which has only been heightened (for me anyway) by the recent news of black men and boys being killed for just living and walking. Even though the novel was published in 1977, the issues are still prevalent and real and persistent.

But the terrific group of juniors whom I teach have embraced the novel and its questions and challenges. They have met the novel and its characters with searching, questioning heart[s]” as Brenda Flyswithhawks admonishes us. They were not horrified by the scene of Ruth breastfeeding her son until he was much too old. Instead they looked at the scene through her eyes and recognized this was the only way she feels successful as a woman and mother since her husband berates her for her cooking and existence. They did not judge. They understood and sympathized.

That is how they have approached the entire novel. At one point, one of the girls said she was very frustrated with Milkman for not realizing the racial oppression of African-Americans and thinking only about himself. She was so happy to see him embark on his journey to discover himself and his family. I wonder what she will say today.

Just a few minutes ago, another student came up and said she wants to talk about how Morrison says in the last paragraph that Milkman “rides” the air. She was so keyed into the significance and import of a single verb and thought it might be the linchpin for interpreting the ending and indeed the entire novel.

These girls have simply been amazing as they explore the holes which Morrison deliberately left in her language for the reader to interpret and examine.