{"product_id":"ghetto-cowboy-the-inspiration-for-concrete-cowboy-isbn-9780763664534","title":"Ghetto Cowboy (the inspiration for Concrete Cowboy)","description":"\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eNow a feature film, \u003c\/i\u003eConcrete Cowboy\u003ci\u003e, starring Idris Elba\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Original in theme and inspirational in tone and content.” — \u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eBooklist\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrom a Coretta Scott King Author Award Honor winner comes a street- smart tale about a displaced teen who learns to defend what’s right — the Cowboy Way. Inspired by the little- known urban riders of Philly and Brooklyn, this compelling tale of latter- day cowboy justice champions a world where your friends always have your back, especially when the chips are down.Once again, G. Neri has done what he does best: taken a real-life scenario and turned it into compelling fiction. Cole's authentic voice will resonate with readers—it grabbed me right from the start and wouldn’t let me go. \u003cb\u003eAn outstanding book\u003c\/b\u003e! – Coe Booth, author of the \u003ci\u003eLos Angeles Times\u003c\/i\u003e Book Prize Winner Tyrell\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe unique subject matter alone makes this a book worth picking up. Cole’s heartwarming, heartrending voice, his struggle, and his triumph, make this \u003cb\u003ea book worth reading to the end\u003c\/b\u003e.–Sundee T. Frazier, author of the Coretta Scott King \/ John Steptoe New Talent Award Winner \u003ci\u003eBrendan Buckley's Universe and Everything in It \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eGhetto Cowboy\u003c\/i\u003e is \u003cb\u003ean exceptional and deeply moving story\u003c\/b\u003e about a father and son finding their way to each other and a community daring to fight for what they believe in. G. Neri has created a story that ropes us in and saddles us up for a heartwarming ride. – Hope Anita Smith, author of the Coretta Scott King Honor Winner \u003ci\u003eKeeping the Night Watch  \u003c\/i\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis well-written book is based on a true story of urban cowboys in Philadelphia and New York. Cole's spot-on emotional insight is conveyed through believable dialogue and the well-paced plot offers information about a little-known aspect of African-American history as well as a portrait of contemporary urban stable life. Watson's illustrations punctuate the intriguing aspects of the story and make the novel more appealing.\u003cbr\u003e—School Library Journal\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA fascinating glimpse of a culture most readers will not have heard of.\u003cbr\u003e—Kirkus Reviews\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNeri's story is original in  theme and inspirational in tone and content.\u003cbr\u003e—Booklist\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eColtrane's narration is written in easy-reading colloquial language, making the book a likely sell to reluctant readers and possibility for older readalouds.\u003cbr\u003e—Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere’s an honesty to the book and to the changes Cole experiences. And while the story itself may contain a happy ending for both boy and horse, that doesn’t mean it’s an easy ending for either of them...Definitely recommended for everyone.\u003cbr\u003e—A Fuse 8 Production (SLJ blog)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA heartwarming story about inner-city kids who bond with a band of forgotten race horses. . . . The great morality lesson here is not the only beauty of the story. The rhythm of the writing, the smells and sounds of the neighborhood, the developing relationship between a boy and his estranged father add up to an appealing novel, especially for an under-written-for segment of young male readers. \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e—The Christian Science Monitor\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eONE\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e We drivin’ into the sunset, the car burning up from the heat. I don’t know if it’s comin’ from outside or from Mama, who’s burning up angry at me. She ain’t said nothin’ to me since we left the principal’s office ’bout a hour ago. But she got her foot pressed on the gas like we in a race, zoomin’ past everyone on the expressway. \u003cbr\u003e “I can’t do this no more, Cole.” \u003cbr\u003e “Do what?” I say. \u003cbr\u003e But I know. I only seen her this angry once before, and this is worse.  \u003cbr\u003e “Where we going?” I ask. \u003cbr\u003e She don’t answer. By the time we hit the interstate outta Detroit, I can see she crying. I hate when she do that. It makes me feel bad inside, ’cause I’m always the one who makes her feel that way. \u003cbr\u003e “I’m sorry, Mama.” \u003cbr\u003e She wipes her eyes on her sleeve. \u003cbr\u003e “Me too, baby. Me too,” she says, all sad. \u003cbr\u003e I see the city slowly disappearing, turning into suburbs. I know she gotta work early in the morning, so we can’t be driving that far. I ask her again. \u003cbr\u003e “Where we going?” \u003cbr\u003e Cars is falling behind us ’cause she speedin’ up. \u003cbr\u003e “Mama—” \u003cbr\u003e She chokes it out: “Philadelphia.” \u003cbr\u003e I laugh, then see she ain’t joking. \u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e“What?!”\u003c\/i\u003e I stare at her hard. \u003cbr\u003e Her hands is shaking, so she grab the steering wheel tighter. \u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e“Philly?”\u003c\/i\u003e I say, my head spinning. “What for?” \u003cbr\u003e She pulls on her hair and grunts. “I can’t be your mama right now. You need a man in your life.” \u003cbr\u003e I try to let that sink in, but my ears is on fire. “What you talking about? Who’s in Philly?” \u003cbr\u003e She sighs. \u003cbr\u003e “Your daddy.”\u003cbr\u003e My daddy. \u003cbr\u003e Who I never met. \u003cbr\u003e Who Mama never talks about. \u003cbr\u003e Once I asked if she had a picture of him, and she said she burned ’em all. When I kept on her, all she said was he didn’t care about us and now he gone and good riddance. \u003cbr\u003e She never said nothing more. \u003cbr\u003e Now I find out we gonna go see him? \u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e“Why?” \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She just holds up her hand like she can’t even go there, like the idea that she gonna take me to him is the last thing she’d ever do.\u003cbr\u003e But she doing it. And then it hits me: “You wanna get rid of me.” \u003cbr\u003e That gets her. I can see her holding that steering wheel so tight her knuckles is turning white. “I can’t do this no more,” she says to no one. “After twelve years, I got nothing left.” \u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eThat’s crazy talk.\u003c\/i\u003e She can’t leave me. “But you my mama! You supposed to watch out for me!” \u003cbr\u003e She bites her lip, her eyes locked on some faraway place. “I used to think your daddy was a bad father . . . that he didn’t know how to take care of us. But now I’m thinking there’s something wrong with me ’cause I don’t know why you are the way you are,” 4 she say. “Maybe he’s the only one left who can turn you around.” \u003cbr\u003e She startin’ to scare me now, talkin’ like that. “I ain’t so bad, Mama. I can do better.” \u003cbr\u003e She nod, fightin’ for words. “I know you can, baby. You just need someone that can show you the way. But that ain’t me no more, Cole.” \u003cbr\u003e I can’t believe what I’m hearin’. “So you gonna leave me with some dude who never cared about us? Some guy who treated you so bad, you never talk about him?” \u003cbr\u003e She stares ahead, her eyes wet. She ain’t disagreeing. “He’s different is all. But maybe different is what you need.” \u003cbr\u003e And with that, she just shuts down. \u003cbr\u003e I seen that look before. It means she made up her mind. I think about grabbing that steering wheel and turning the car around, but she like a rock and, deep down, I know I gone too far this time.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eTWO\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e I stare out the window. Even though it’s getting dark out, I can see we in the middle a nowhere. No lights from no city. \u003cbr\u003e Nothing. It looks just like I feel, all empty inside. \u003cbr\u003e I don’t know why I stopped going to school. I guess I didn’t wanna waste no more time with teachers and homework and all a that, ’cause what difference do it make in the end? I’ll never do nothing great in my life. Do they really think I’m gonna be like Obama? Not a chance. I just feel sorry for Mama for thinking that I could be somebody.\u003cbr\u003e She just found out yesterday that I missed the last four weeks of school. That I been hiding them letters and erasing the messages from the vice principal, even duckin’ the truancy officer when he comes by. With her working so much, that wasn’t so hard to do ’cause I done it before and knew all the tricks. But it was the first time I got caught, on account of the truancy officer finding me tagging the back of the school cafeteria while school was going on. Stupid. \u003cbr\u003e She really lost it when she found out they was gonna suspend me for the rest of the year. If I wasn’t twelve, they woulda kicked me out for good, but now they talking about holding me back. \u003cbr\u003e I ain’t never seen her so sad before, like she thought it was all her fault. It made me feel like dirt seeing her sittin’ on the kitchen floor crying, but I knew there was nothin’ I could do to help her, ’cept to let her get it all out. That’s how we deal. \u003cbr\u003e Today, Mama had to skip work to come in to talk to the principal. He went on and on about how I was in danger—rattling off a buncha numbers like how four outta every ten black boys drop outta school, and seven outta ten can’t get no job and ’cause a that, six of us will end up in prison. I could see Mama sinking into herself, like he was saying it was all her fault for not being a good mama. \u003cbr\u003e In the old days, seemed she had the energy to read to me and stuff, and we made drawings together or laid under the covers, talking about where we would go if we could live anywhere else but Detroit. . . . \u003cbr\u003e But that was when I was a kid. Them days is gone. Kids can be happy ’cause they don’t know better, but when you get older, well, you just know it’s all a big lie. Last three years, Mama’s been so moody, like a cloud passed in front of her face. Sometime she look at me and it’s like she don’t see me. I been on my own a lot ’cause a that and ’cause she gotta work so much. I been roaming the streets, skippin’ school and hanging with my friends, staying out late, which she don’t like. We ain’t been doing nothing bad . . . but we ain’t exactly been doin’ nothing good neither. \u003cbr\u003e It was weird hearing the principal say things about me like I wasn’t there, even though I was. He told Mama that since there was a couple weeks left of school, he was gonna suspend me till the summer session started. He said that going to summer school was the only way I could get outta repeating the seventh grade, and not only did I have to show up, but I had to pass the end-of-year exam too. Then he said I needed to seriously think about my life so I could get my priorities straight. Otherwise, things was gonna get much worse for me, and I would end up like one of them boys he was talkin’ about.\u003cbr\u003e Looking at Mama’s face, I could tell she already thought it was too late.","brand":"Candlewick","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46305377648869,"sku":"NP9780763664534","price":7.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780763664534.jpg?v=1767728016","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/ghetto-cowboy-the-inspiration-for-concrete-cowboy-isbn-9780763664534","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}