I’ve got a special place in my heart for Alice Walker. My mother, Trellie James Jeffers, was her seventh grade teacher back in the day in Eatonton, Georgia at Butler-Baker High School. Miss Alice even wrote my mama a poem back then, though she wasn’t my mama then, of course. And she didn’t have the last name Jeffers, either.
In a strange way, it’s like Miss Alice is member of my family, because I hear stories about her and my mother just calls her “Alice.” I hope she’s having a good day today and kicking it strong on this, on her sixty-sixth birthday.