>> Good morning. >> Michelle Y. Green: Morning. >> Sasha Dowdy: Morning. Did you guys have a great tour this morning of Baseball Americana? >> Yes. >> Sasha Dowdy: That was the fastest self-guided exhibit, right [laughs]? You had 15 minutes. I hope you had some favorite parts. Did you see stories of some unexpected people in the baseball exhibit? And I know you only had 15 minutes, so the good news is that you can keep exploring this exhibit online. You can go to loc.gov and check out Baseball Americana, and you can see so many things online. You can take a closer look. You can engage with the stories a little bit closer and check it out some more. So, today's program is really special, because one of the stories we have in the exhibit is coming alive right in front of you [laughter]. We have the story of a very special, very interesting baseball player Mamie-- nicknamed "Peanut"-- Johnson, and you will hear about this pioneer player from the author of her biography, Michelle Y. Green. Mrs. Green is a storyteller. She went to school to learn how to tell people stories. She teaches others how to tell stories, and she has published a lot of stories she told about people in her life. She writes a children's book series called "Willie Pearl," and that's about her mother living in the Depression era [laughs]. And, also, here she is, the protagonist [laughter]. And Michelle Y. Green also wrote the biography called "A Strong Right Arm," which is about the hero of the story you're going to hear today. And that's A Strong Right Arm, the story of Mamie Peanut Johnson, which was published in 2002. So, the story is actually going into the next step of a book's evolution that happens sometimes, and it's going to become a movie. And the movie is called "Throw Like a Girl," [laughs] and the production is starting in February of next year. So, that would be really cool to see how. >> Right. >> Your friendships evolve into stories that millions of people can participate in. So, no more delays. Let's welcome Michelle Y. Green, everybody. >> Michelle Y. Green: Thank you. [ Applause ] I like to walk around. I have a Fitbit, you see. It counts my steps. I'll sit down when I read, but right now I'm going to walk around. What was your favorite part of the exhibit? I talked with this young man, earlier. Let's hear from some of the women. >> [Inaudible] microphone so we can hear the kids. >> Michelle Y. Green: Oh. All right, [laughs] okay. Anybody? Yes. >> I liked the handwritten things, and I also liked the little pocketbook. >> Michelle Y. Green: Okay. Great. Anybody else want to chime in? This is interactive. You can talk to me, and I'll talk back to you. Go ahead. >> I liked to see the dresses that women would have wear for baseball. >> Michelle Y. Green: Yes, we're going to talk about a woman ballplayer this morning named Mamie Peanut Johnson, and guess what the best part is? She was from Washington D.C. She could walk to the Library of Congress anytime she wanted to. She passed away in February, sadly, but her legacy, her story, still remains. They have a Little League team named after her, Mamie Peanut Johnson team. And they went all the way to the championships this year. They didn't win it. My bad. They didn't win it, but they tried their best. There's a playground named after Mamie Peanut Johnson in Washington D.C., and there's a mural, a big painting of her on the wall. And I like to think that something in my discovery of Mamie led to her wonderful success. We got a question over here, a comment? >> I like the part where you could, like, feel how, like, different the balls were then and how they are now and the gloves. >> Michelle Y. Green: Baseballs? I have a very old baseball. Look at this. And a very little mitt. They called her "Peanut," but she wasn't that small [laughs]. This is a prop that someone gave me. Okay, before I start talking about Mamie, I want to talk about what it's like to be a real live author. How many of you have met an author before? Been to a book signing? Good. A lot of you. Well, let me pull the curtain back a little bit and tell you what it's like to be a real, live author. Guess what I had for breakfast this morning? Cereal and juice [laughs]. You see, not all authors are famous like J.K. Rowling and people like that. We live right in your neighborhood. I live-- on a good day-- about an hour from here in a little town called Upper Marlboro, Maryland, and my family is here. Let me introduce the rest of them. There's my husband, Oliver Green. He's from Baltimore. Unfortunately, the Orioles didn't do too well this year [laughs]. As a matter of fact, I think they had the worst-- Were they the worst in baseball? [Inaudible] In their entire lives. Now, I met this handsome man at the University of Maryland where I went to college, and we married right after there. And guess where he took me on our very first date? >> The Library of Congress? >> No, not the Library of Congress [laughter]. That's a good guess. Actually, we might have gotten married sooner if he had taken me to the library [laughs]. But we went to Baltimore on the bus from College Park where I got my journalism degree, and we went to Memorial Stadium, because he grew up loving the Orioles. He lived not far from there, you see. Unfortunately, I hadn't gotten into baseball at that time. So, we took the long bus from the University of Maryland to Memorial Park. It was a night game. And guess what happened? It rained. Not only did it rain, but they had a game delay. So, now I'm sitting there with this stranger, this handsome stranger, in the rain watching a baseball game. And then it stopped, and we weren't in the nice, cushy box seats. We were up, way up, because we were students, you know? While there was a rain delay, he taught me about baseball, what the different pitches were, what it means to steal. I didn't know any of those things. We have two sons. One is Brian. He's a filmmaker in Philadelphia. The other is Evan. He's a music producer and a vocalist in Los Angeles. But before that, both of them played baseball. They started out very little as playing tee-ball. Anybody here play tee-ball, or baseball, softball? Anything? Any ball? Okay, [laughs] a few of you. Good. Well, we forced Brian to play. We said, "Try it for one season." He hated it. But Evan went on to play baseball all the way through to high school in Upper Marlboro. Now, sitting next to him is Willie Pearl, who waved at you before. My very first book that I wrote 20 years ago is called "Willie Pearl." How many of you think you might would like to be a writer one day? Anybody? Are you journaling? [Inaudible] You write stuff down. That's good. Let me tell you the secret of good writing. Write what you know, and nobody knows your family like you. If you're stuck for something to write, write your family story, the good and the bad. Now, Willie Pearl has three books in her series, and, next to her, is-- You're not going to believe this-- my bowling coach [laughter]. You see? I'm not good at baseball, but I bowl pretty good and so does Willie Pearl. We went on tour together, if you can believe that. Once, I won a lot of badges [laughs]. So, sitting next to her is Mark, Mark Henson [assumed spelling] from Prince Frederick, Maryland. Mark, do you like baseball? >> Yeah, I love it. >> Michelle Y. Green: Loves it. He loves all kind of sports. They talk to one another every night that the game is on. Sitting next to Ollie [assumed spelling] is a very special friend. Her name is Alexis [assumed spelling]. Now, Alexis is the farthest away from any of you. She lives in Bermuda, a little island. It's beautiful there. I started going there when I was a child. Our family went there a lot. Alexis is here, and I think she's kind of pretty [laughs]. Okay. She's also in school. She's going to College of Southern Maryland in La Plata, Maryland. And she's deciding to be an accountant. Yes? [Inaudible] How do you spell it? [Inaudible] It's the same as yours. Very good. Maybe you're related [laughter]. Let me tell you a funny story. This has nothing to do with baseball, has everything to do with Willie Pearl. We like to share family stories. By the way-- Can I tell them?-- She's 94 years old [laughs]. So, for her 94th birthday, my sister Adrienne [assumed spelling] gave her one of those fancy Alexa machines. Do you know what they are? You plug them in, and it talks to you, tells you the weather, the score of the ball game, helps you remember things, and plays your music. Well, poor, Alexis, when mom says "Alexa, what's the weather like?" Alexis comes running [laughs]. And sometimes she gets their name mixed up [laughs]. Okay, back to being a writer. My dad was a Tuskegee Airman. Does anybody know what that is? Tell me. [ Inaudible Speaker ] Yes. Let's give him a hand. My father, Eddie Lee Young was a pilot, a bombardier, and a navigator. That's called triple rating, and only two men, two black men in history, were ever triple rated. And guess what book I'm working on now? It's called "High Flight," the story of Eddie Lee Young. And guess where I'm doing my research? At the Library of Congress. I come down here maybe once a month and spend the day. I wear comfortable shoes, because it's a lot of walking. But they have great photographs here for you to research, oral histories that are recorded, very knowledgeable people that if you want to know anything, they'll be glad to help you. It's like that in most libraries. How many of you like to go to the library? Everybody. Good. Well, because my dad was in the air force, we grew up all over the world. I lived in Germany, Texas, Maine, Mississippi, Canada, and we travelled all over the place. I got my first love of writing when I was in the fifth grade. Now, many of you-- Are you in the fourth grade? >> Fifth grade. >> Michelle Y. Green: You're in the fifth grade. I knew I wanted to be a writer from the fifth grade. My mom still has my report card that says that I was a good writer [laughs], so I started writing family stories when I was young. I didn't get published until I got out of college, but I love writing, and I love mentoring young writers. Let me get back to the first rule of writing, which is "Write what you know." So, it's no secret that when I wrote my first children's book, I wrote it about Willie Pearl. That's her real name, Willie Pearl, who grew up in the mountains of Kentucky. And there are three books of that series. Now, what does it take to be a good writer? What do you think? What are some things that you think make a good writer? >> Creativity. >> Michelle Y. Green: Creativity. That's number one. What else? >> Knowledge. >> Michelle Y. Green: Knowledge. That goes with research. I'll talk about that in a minute. Anything else? It takes something to write with, doesn't it? >> A pencil. >> Michelle Y. Green: A pencil, a pen, a crayon, a laptop, a journal. How many of you have access to computers? I figured so. Okay, all of you. So, you have no excuse. You can get on the internet and do your research there. You can come to the Library of Congress. You can come to your branch library and find out all the stuff that you do need to know [laughter]. I wrote a little book called "Oscar Invincible." I'm reworking it now. I wrote it for children. Now I'm writing it for adults. Oscar Micheaux was a slave. His family were slaves. He was a farmer in Kansas, and then he went on to be a home setter in South Dakota. But the thing that people don't know about Oscar Micheaux is that he was a filmmaker. He lived in a little soddy out in the middle of nowhere South Dakota. He bought himself a little pot of land. He was a black man. Everybody thought he was weird. He built himself a house out of sod, and he was lonely. He had no friends in that little town of Gregory, South Dakota. So, what did he do? He started writing. He started writing. He wrote five novels. And then when he couldn't get them published, guess what he did? He published them himself. Way back in the 1920s. People are self-publishing now, so you don't have to wait for a publisher to get your works published. You can go on the internet and self-publish through Amazon. You don't have to be published. You can write in a journal and share it with your friends and family. The important thing for a writer is to keep at it. Those of us who do it for a living like I do, we try to write 500 words a day, and that's not a lot. That's like one page. So, if you want to be a writer, the first thing to do is write [laughs]. You got to write. Keep at it. And don't worry about proper grammar, proper spelling. The first time you do something it's called a "first draft." Just write out whatever is on your mind. There's something called morning pages. When you first get up and the creativity is just flowing. Before you get ready for school, before you get ready to do all your chores and all that, take a few minutes to write what's on your mind. There's something about sleep that brings the imagination up. Well, this morning, I was up at 4 o'clock in the morning. Can you believe that [laughs]? Usually, I get up at a quarter to six. And before I have breakfast or anything, I go to my laptop or the journal beside my bed, if I decide to sleep in a little bit, and I just write whatever comes to mind. I'm not worried about grammar. I'm not worried about punctuation. I'm not worried. That's just for me. It's not for anybody else to see. It's kind of like a diary. Now, Alexis keeps a wonderful diary. She let me read some of it one time. She's an aspiring writer. That means she wants to be a writer, too. I think that's terrific. But when I was in the fifth grade, we were living in Ramstein, Germany, an air force base, and I had this wonderful teacher, Mrs. Raoule [phonetic]. Mrs. Raoule would read to us an hour every day. Can you believe it? We've come back from the cafeteria all full of good cafeteria food [laughs], and we'd be all comfy, cozy in the classroom. And guess what she would read? Little House on the Prairie. How many of you know that book? Oh, great [laughs]. And it's a TV show, too, but I love the books. So, she would read to us after lunch. And sometimes we'd put our head on our desk and sleep a little bit or nod off. But when I kept hearing Laura Ingalls Wilder all the time, when I started to write Willie Pearl, guess what? It sounded a lot like Laura Ingalls Wilder. She was my role model. Does anybody know what the word "muse" means, M-U-S-E? Anybody? Wanna take a stab at it? What's a muse? >> Like a maze. >> Michelle Y. Green: A what? [Inaudible] A maid? >> A maze. >> Michelle Y. Green: Oh, a maze? I thought you said, "a maid." I'd love to have a maid [laughs]. A maze? No, a muse is a person, like a role model, that inspires you to write. Like, I have a muse. His name is-- Well, it's not important, but he's a famous musician. And when I sit down to write, I like to write with music in the background and a good cup of coffee. That's why I get up early. So, that's what the writing life is. It's getting up, writing whatever's on your mind. And then if you have an important story to tell, to do the research and do all kinds of research. It's not just about going to a library and digging into the encyclopedias. It's called experiencing things, and that's going to bring me right around Peanut Johnson and how this story happened. Here's a picture of Mamie and me in what used to be the Negro league's baseball shop in Mitchellville. It's not there anymore. It's a church now. But before you know it, this is how we became acquainted. This is Mamie. Everybody see her? A real live person. Well, I live in Upper Marlboro, and my son, Evan, was playing baseball. He was just starting out. He wasn't that good at it. So, I was driving around, doing my errands one Saturday, and I pulled into a new store to grand opening Negro league's baseball. Now, being a writer, I was curious, instantly. So, I went in. I said, "Maybe I can find a jersey, or a videotape, or a book to help my little Evan out play baseball better. So, I walked to the store. They had videos, books, jerseys like this. They had all kinds of stuff. I went to a rack, and they had jerseys like this, and it said "Clowns" on it. Well, I got interested. And, not only that, they had T-shirts that had this image of a woman hurling a ball or pitching a ball, and I thought, "This is really exciting. It said "Pitcher" on it P-I-T-C-H-E-R, pitcher, like a pitcher. I said, "I got to know more about this woman." So, I bought the shirt. I took it to the register, and I said, "I'd like to buy this shirt. And he said, "Cash or credit?" And I said, "Can I write a check?" [laughs]. So I wrote the check, and then he said, "Well, you know, the woman Mamie Peanut Johnson is in the store right now, autographing. Would you like to meet her?" I said, "Oh my goodness, Mamie is in the shop right now?" It's the great opening. They had other Negro league's baseball players there. So, I walked over with my jersey, and I said, "Mamie, would you sign my jersey, please?" And she signed it. You can hardly see. It says, "Indianapolis Clowns, Mamie, 1953 and to 1955" is when she played. And I said to her, "I didn't know there were female ballplayers that were African-American. She said-- She likes to use the word "honey"-- "Honey, there were three of us, three women who played in the professional Negro league's black baseball. And of the three, I'm the only one still alive." And the writer in me went, "There's a story here" [laughs]. So, I sat down next to her, and I said, "Mamie, has anybody written your story?" And she said to me, "Honey, [laughs] I've been waiting for someone to ask me that question." And I said, "Well, this is your lucky day" [laughs]. We didn't start interviewing right away, because I had to get back to my children, but I made an appointment with her to start doing my research. What's the first kind of research you think I did? I'm just meeting her for the first time. She's a living legend. What kind of research did I do? What process did I use? [Inaudible] I asked her her story, yes. You had a comment? The same thing. It's called interviewing, right? You've seen interviews. You know what interviewing is. That's when you talk to someone to find out more about their life. So, if you're going to write a story about your family, or your grandparents, or your famous rock star, or something, you try to get an interview with that person and ask some questions. When I wrote Willie Pearl, I had a favorite cousin, her younger brother called "Johnny" [assumed spelling]. And Johnny would get up very early in the morning to make his coffee, so I would join him. He was a coalminer. Her family were coalminers, so they'd get up early in the morning. So, I would have to get up at 4:00, sit down with my Uncle Johnny, and I had a little tape recorder, a little microcassette. And you know what? I would just ask him to talk, talk about what was important to him, what was on his mind, what he liked to do. So, I did the same thing with Mamie. So, if you're going to interview someone, always ask permission first. But you'll find that most people are willing to talk about themselves, okay? So, I sat down in the Negro league's baseball shop and started interviewing Mamie while she was signing books, signing baseballs, and so forth. The next thing I had to do, I had to learn how to play baseball, because she was a pitcher, the only professional woman pitcher who played with a man's team ever in history. And I didn't know much about baseball. Evan was learning. Ollie was helping him. So, guess what I did? I joined Evan's Little League team [laughs]. Well, I didn't actually join. I talked to the coaches, and I said, "Could I, you know, learn some stuff from you? Like what? Well, I need to know how to throw the curve ball." That was Mamie's favorite pitch. He said, "Well, we can teach you that." This man was on her team, Hank Aaron. Maybe you've heard of him. Very famous. When she was with the Indianapolis Clowns, Hank Aaron was her teammate. This guy, Satchel Paige, okay, he taught her how to throw the knuckleball. This man, Satchel Paige, was so talented. He was very tall and skinny like you can see here, okay? But he had pitches that were so unbelievable that they gave them names. They gave his pitches names. They used to call him [laughs] the "Chocolate Whizbang," because he would throw a pitch, and it would go so slow it would drop right down on the plate. No one could hit it. And in the next pitch he threw was so wild, so fast, the call it the "bee ball," because it was so fast the batter couldn't even see it. Okay. Getting back to Mamie. I worked out with Evan's team for about a whole season. And at the end of the year, they had a special event where the parents would play the kids, just a fun kind of a thing. So, then I got to actually take the field. I was so excited. I was going to be able to show off what I learned: hitting, running. You know what the coach said to me? "Oh, here comes Michelle." Parents, you have to throw with your opposite hand, because you have an advantage over your kids. So, if you're a right-hander, you have to do everything with your left hand. If you bat right, you're going to have to bat left. And they said to me, "Mrs. Green, [laughs] you can use your right hand." I was so bad, but I had a ball. And from Evan's coaches, and from playing, I got to experience baseball. So, if you're writing about something that you don't know, try to experience it, not just do interviews and research in the library. Try to experience it so it becomes your own. That's where the passion is. It's something that you really know that you want to express. Okay, I toured around with Mamie. Wherever she went to baseball trading cards. We travelled all around the area. And then it took me-- guess how long-- to write the book. How long did it take for me to do my research? [Inaudible] Very good. It took me three years [laughs]. And when I wrote about Oscar Micheaux, it took longer than that, because I had to travel to South Dakota to see his soddy and to Kansas so interview his family. So, writers often do a lot of traveling. We take a lot of photographs. Now, the photographs in this book-- And you'll see, because everybody's getting a copy of it and a baseball card. [ Applause ] Let me show you this. It's called photo research. So, I got to go to the archives and, also, I got to ask Mamie for her family pictures. This is Mamie when she was 12 years old. Isn't she gorgeous? You see that? She went through her Bible and pulled out old photographs. There's one here of her mother. Let me find it. And her best friend. Well, I can't find it, but you'll see it when you read the book on your own. Okay. So, research can mean interviewing, going to places like the Library of Congress, the National Archives, asking people what's important to them, experiencing whatever you can for your own, because it becomes what you know. And that makes for very vivid writing. Well, some of you are saying, "Well, I'm not that good in English." In fact, I hate English. That doesn't matter. They have something called "editors" that will help you out with the small stuff. Just write your story. Start with your family. Okay, so here's what I learned. Mamie used to play baseball in her grandmother's front yard in South Carolina. And they didn't even have a real ball. You know what they used? A rock with sticky tape, masking tape, a rock. They didn't even have a real bat. They used a tree branch. You read about this in the book. They didn't have nice white bases. They had a broken pie plate that they used for bases. And her uncle she called "Bones," who was just a little bit older than she was, taught her how to pitch, and she loved it. Then her grandmother died suddenly, and she had to move. Her mother was living in Washington D.C. Mamie was staying with her grandmother. She had to move from place to place to place. And everywhere she went, she wanted to find out "How can I play baseball here?" She moved to Long Branch, New Jersey-- New Jersey's not that far from here-- and she lived with her aunt and uncle. There were no baseball teams that girls could join, and she didn't like softball. How many of you have played softball and know what softball is? Softball is kind of like baseball, only you pitch differently, and the ball is really big. She didn't like that. She wanted to play hardball. So, guess what Mamie did? She went to a-- It was an all white boys' team and would watch them. And they would ridicule her, because she was a little black girl, new to the community, and she would watch them from the fence. She found out that they were the Police Athletic League, PAL League. They still have them everywhere. So, guess what she did? She walked over to the precinct house. That's where all the law enforcement people were, and she said, "Excuse me, I want to be on the PAL team." And they said, "You're kidding, right?" She says, "No, I love baseball, and there's no baseball for me. I want to be on the PAL team." And one officer said, "Well, let me see what you can do." So, he took her to the back of the precinct house, put a ball in her hand, and she said, "Well, I like to pitch. I'm good at hitting, but I love to pitch." He said, "Well, show me your fastball, then." And they played for about 20 minutes right in the backyard of the precinct house. And he said, "You know what? You can join the team." But having the coach say she could join the team wasn't enough. She, actually, had [laughs] try out with the boys. Now, what do you think that must have been like? She was, like, 12 years old then. And she shows up, and this little red-haired boy started ridiculing her until she took to the mount. And nobody could hit her. [Laughs] Nobody could hit her. So, she went on to play with this boy's team and led them to the championship for two years. Can you believe that? At the age of 12. Now, let me tell you how she got the name "Peanut." Well, Mamie was only 5 foot 2. Willie Pearl is 5 foot 2? [Laughs] So, when she stands up later, you'll be able to see how 5 foot 2-- I'm 5, 5 and a half. So, Mamie was shorter than me, and she signed her first contract when she was 16 years old. She auditioned in Washington D.C. at Banneker Field. I went to Banneker Field across from Howard University and saw the field where she played, where she had her audition. Mamie, she was a wonderful thing. She had a fine sense of humor, a Southern drawl. She called everybody "Sugar" and "Honey." She was really good to get along with, and she told me stories of what it was like to travel with the men's team. Now, remember, she was the only woman on a professional men's team that toured all year round. Her team was called the "Indianapolis Clowns." You see it on my hat. You see it here. In fact, I'll pass this around so you can see it. They were called the "Clowns," not because they didn't play well. Has anybody heard of the Harlem Globetrotters basketball? Well, these Indianapolis Clowns were so talented that, before the game would start, they would warm up the crowd by doing all kinds of stunts and tricks, like the Harlem Globetrotters did. That's why they were called the "Clowns." I said, "Didn't you have trouble being on a team called the 'Clowns?' Didn't you feel ridiculous?" She said, "Oh, no. If you could see us play, you could laugh all you wanted to before the game started. But once the game started, we were dead serious about what we did." Indianapolis Clowns. Let me talk a little bit about her jersey. By the way, this cover was done by Kadir Nelson when he was very young. Now Kadir is famous, famous. He does covers for the The New Yorker. Adults, if you've seen his latest work, it's just awesome. He does covers for The New Yorker all the time. When he first showed me, he did it as a large painting, about the size of that poster. This was a large painting. And when I went to New York to see it for the first time, I said, "Oh my goodness, I can't believe my book is being illustrated by this talented person." I showed it to Mamie. You know what she said? "Why are my feet so big?" [laughter]. And the other thing. You can see it here a little closely. She has a ponytail. Well, when he first drew her, because he'd never met her, he drew it with just her ball cap on. And she said, "Oh, no. My hair was long." And it was long. She kept it long until she died. So, he had to add a little ponytail stuck on there. You can barely see it, [laughs] but it's there. And, yes, her feet do look big, but that's his style [laughs]. She didn't like that very much. Mamie would travel with the boys' team, with the men, 24 sweaty men on a bus. It wasn't like baseball players today. They got paid pennies a day. It depended upon how many people came to the game and whether they won or lost. If they won, they got more money. If they lost, the other team got all the money. They would play and go on a bus from place to place, especially in the South. And during that time in the 1950s-- I was born in '54-- she was actually playing then. I didn't know her-- African-Americans-- "Negroes" we were called then-- couldn't just eat anywhere. Couldn't just sleep anywhere. You've, probably, learned that in your history classes or social studies, right? You know about Brown vs. Board, things like that. You look like a very smart group. So, she would travel on this bus. The bus was so old and rickety that sometimes it would break down. They'd have to all get off and push it to the next place. Or they didn't have enough money to buy gas to get to the next place that they were playing. So, it wasn't like the glory days now with Cal Ripken, who just got married by the way, from the Orioles. He made a lot of money. Who's watching the World Series, by the way, anybody? Who do you like? [Inaudible] The Dodgers? Oh. Well, you know, black baseball has Dodgers. Anybody else? Anybody like Boston? [Laughs] Well, I like Boston, because Boston adopted this book Strong Right Arm, one summer, and used it as a part of their special promotions for kids. They gave away a lot of these books, and Mamie got to go up to Boston and throw out the first pitch at a Boston game. Before the Nationals were a team in Washington D.C., when they were just becoming a team and they had their very first game, the Washington Nationals. Guess who was there? Mamie, me, and my son Evan. We sat right next to the mayor. Can you believe that? Before the Nationals became the Washington Nationals. You've seen their big stadium, haven't you? I went to a rock concert there [laughter]. Saw the Eagles [laughter]. Getting back to baseball [laughter]. Writers can be crazy people. I said, "Mamie, tell me about your uniforms." She said, "Oh my goodness. These uniforms." This is an actual replica, a copy, of the kind of uniform that Mamie wore. And if you feel the hat, it's made out of the same material. It's wool. Now they have synthetic fabrics, polyester, cotton blends. They're very comfortable. How many of you own a jersey? Maybe you've gone to baseball game and gotten a jersey? They're expensive, aren't they [laughs]? But they're very nice. Well, back then, they played in wool. It was a natural fabric, but it itched. I said, "What was it like? And if you see on the cover, I just have the jersey on. But they had wool pants in the summertime. Why do you think they played in wool? Anybody have an idea? Any grownup have an idea? What do you think? [ Inaudible Speaker ] Well, that's part of the reason. Wool did get dirty. It lasted a long time. Wool lasts a long time. It might itch, but it doesn't wear out like a cotton jersey when you wash it. And they're going to be fooling around in the dirt all the time. It's going to wear very, very well. And I said, "Well, okay." That's what book is called before it's published, when it's typed up and someone's editing it, it's called a "manuscript". When my editor saw the manuscript, she said, "It's not enough to say it itched. Tell us how it itched. What did it feel like?" And so I said, "It itched like all get-out, which is what we would say in the South." She said, "No, I don't like that." She said, "How about"-- and we tried different things. I took it back to Mamie. She said, "It just itched [laughs]." So, that's how it appears in the book when you read it. It just itched. You don't have to say like, "It itched like this. It itched like that." It just itched, but it was durable. Now, ladies, I got to tell you. How many of you have brothers? Okay. Older brothers, younger brothers? Older brothers? Okay. All the men cover your ears [laughs]. No, not really. Thank you. She would be the only woman on a bus with men. Men can be disgusting at times [laughs], especially, if they played a game. They're sweaty. They're hot. They like to blow off steam by playing cards, maybe, you know, drinking a little something stronger than Coca-Cola. And Mamie was right in the middle of it. Now, what do you think that would happen when they had to get ready to change their uniforms or when they're on the bus and had to make a potty stop? Keep in mind, they couldn't go into the white bathrooms. Mamie had to go in the bushes. When you got to go, you've got to go [laughter]. And when she changed her uniform, all the men would have to get off the bus so Mamie could change into her uniform. I said, "Well, Mamie, what was it like playing with men?" She said, "Honey, [laughs] I loved it. They treated me like a lady, and they protected me." And I got to meet some of her old-timey baseball guys in the baseball shop and in other places. And you know what? They're just the most polite people that you ever want to meet. Now, before I read a part of the chapter, do you have any questions about baseball, about Mamie, about women playing in sports? There is another pitcher. Her name is Ila Borders. A few years back, she was, actually, pitching with a Minor League way out in Colorado. And we still don't have any women baseball players in a professional sense in this country, do we? But we have Olympians. We have soccer players. We have other women that are doing wonderful, wonderful things in sports. Any questions for me before I read? Oh. >> Did she ever get, like, booed because she was the only woman? >> Michelle Y. Green: Did I ever get booed? Did she ever get booed? >> Yeah, at, like, a game. >> Michelle Y. Green: Oh, yes. There's a chapter in here. It's one of my favorites. I'm glad you brought that up. She's a really good pitcher. She could throw the fastball, the knuckleball, the curveball-- all these different kinds of pitches. She was playing in the championships once, and this heavy hitter, someone who's really, really good, came up to the plate. And he started intimidating her. This is how she got her name. It's a good question, because I forgot to tell you that. He stood up there and he said, "Ain't no peanut of a woman gonna strike me out." He was tall. He was 6 feet something, muscular. He's in the book. You'll see him. Mamie, that's all the motivation she needed. She threw a few curveballs, strike one. A knuckleball, strike two. Yes? [Inaudible] I'm not telling you. You have to read it for yourself [laughter]. That's a way of saying my memory's a little shot. No. No [laughs], you read it for yourself. It's, really, my favorite chapter. She struck him out one by one, and she said, "Call me Peanut," and she adopted it as her nickname. Ballplayers are famous for having nicknames, and so was she, okay? Other questions before I read? About writing, about sports. Oh, in the back. Yes. >> How long did she play for with the boys? >> Michelle Y. Green: How long did she play? >> Yeah. >> Michelle Y. Green: She played for three years, and they went to the championship every single year that she played. A lot of people will tell you the Negro leagues weren't talented. You've, probably, heard of this man, Jackie Robinson? He was the very first colored player, the first Negro, to cross over and play for the white teams. And after him, little by little, they started letting black talent go into the Major Leagues. And so all the good players started going to the white teams, and the Negro Leagues died out, because people would want to pay good money to see a black man play on a white team even though he was threatened with suicide and death threats all the time. He was a college educated man. You should read Jackie's [inaudible]. I got to meet his daughter once. Mamie and I were on tour, and we got to sign books and baseballs with her. Fascinating story. Was there another question? >> So, in the three years that Mamie has played and when they went to the championship have they won the championship? >> Michelle Y. Green: Did they win the championship? >> Yes. >> Michelle Y. Green: Yes, they did. Yes, they did. There were two other women, eventually, that played black baseball: Connie, Stone, and another lady [laughs]. They're in the book, too. Their picture's in the book. When I met Mamie, they had long since passed. Okay. Let me read to you a little bit of my favorite chapter called-- Oh, I was talking about the talent in the Negro leagues. After Jackie Robinson crossed over, many of the black players started playing on the white teams. No women, though. This chapter is called "Carolina Summers." Now, it's fall now. Pretend like it was a few weeks ago when it was really, really hot instead of cold like it is today. I'm going to sit down now. I'm just going to read a part of it. You can read the whole thing for yourself. Sometimes I read it with Mamie's accent, but I'm not going to do that today. I'm going to use my own voice. Carolina Summers. Summers in South Carolina where I live with my grandma Cendonia Belton were almost hot but not city hot. In Ridgeway, South Carolina, in 1945, the heat had room to move around, to swirl off the dust, and bother the sweet gum trees. It got carried around on the backs of dragonflies and dazzled the clothesline tea towels into brilliant white. It settled on screen doors. It stuck to the back of necks. "Summer was too hot for baseball," Grandma said. But every day, as soon as she could [inaudible] away from her watchful eye Leo, and me, and the other kids around would be out in the yard to play. Leo-- We called him "Bones"-- was my uncle but close enough in age to be my big brother. Here's that picture of her grandmother Cendonia Belton and Bones, her uncle, from her family album. We marked out the bases every day, like we didn't already know that the pie plate was first, the broken piece of flour pot the second, and the large root about three feet from the lilac bush was third. And when we'd slide into home plate, we'd always be sliding over the smooth white lid of a 5-gallon bucket of King Cane sugar, the sweetest in the South. You see, they didn't need real bases and real baseballs and things. They used their imagination. I was 10, and it was my job to get the ball. For that, I didn't have to go to no dry goods store 2 miles away or to Thorntree School to beg. No-legs Levy [assumed spelling], our principal, for one-- That was his nickname, "No-legs Levi." All I had to do was find a nice size rock and wrap it round and round with sticky tape until it had a good heft. They let me get the ball, because I was always the one throwing it. I loved everything about baseball, but it was pitching I loved the best. Oh, sure, I could run the bases faster than a jackrabbit. But nothing made me grin on the inside like pitching. I like the standing up tall. The looking the other fellow in the eye to size him up for a changeup or a fastball. And then the pitch. And I didn't pitch like a girl, either. Bones made sure of that. Not an underhanded fling of the ball, but a surefire, windup, coming-right-at-you pitch smack dab over the plate. One that let him know I meant business, one that could tear the bark right off the tree branch the other fellow was using for a bat. Grandma said that pitchers mound was no place for a girl. Even my best friend, Mary Alice Quails [assumed spelling], who was pretty and all the boys liked her-- She didn't hold any truck with baseball. But baseball was what I liked. The only thing better was a package from home. Ridgeway was where I lived with grandma, but my real home was Washington D.C. Just about every month, I'd get a package from my Mama. There's a picture of her beautiful mother. I'd get a package from my Mama who lived there and worked hard to support me. Skipping forward. But Grandma's house in Ridgeway was big enough to hold all my dreams. It had 18 rooms. It sat on 81 acres. It had fruit trees of every kind: plums, peaches, pears, running streams, and no fences. Maybe I dreamed such big dreams because there was plenty of room to spread them out in Ridgeway, room for them to run, and stretch, and grow. I remember thinking the city was no place for big dreams. They'd get all cramped up and bent, like trying to throw a fastball with your arm cocked. In my room, in Ridgeway, I could look out into the night sky and see starlight, a wide open sky where my dreams could run. Once, I saw a shooting star. God must like baseball, I imagine. He's got a fastball as good as mine. And that's the end of Carolina Summers. [ Applause ] Now, you might note that the big is written in what's called first person. Who knows what first person is, or who can guess? Someone who hasn't answered before. >> It's, like, the first person view, like, your own view kind of, like, that person's view. >> Michelle Y. Green: Right, right. You see, I travelled with Mamie so much and got to know her so much, she called me her "daughter." She adopted me, because, everywhere she went, I went to learn more about her. We went to ballgames together, practiced together. She tried to show me how to throw a curveball. I said, "Don't waste your time [laughs]." But first person is when the narrator, the person who's telling the story, is talking in their own voice. Instead of saying "She did this," it would be "I did this." Now, I wrote it in first person, because, when I sat down after all the research that I did, the first line that came to me was in Mamie's own voice. So, it's called a biography, because it's really about her life, but it doesn't quite fit the mold of a real biography, because I used Mamie's voice, her way of speaking. It's gotten me in a little bit of trouble, because, when they categorize it in libraries, they don't know how to categorize it. Is it biography? Is it fiction? What is it? Well, who cares? It's a good read [laughs], and you'll get a chance to read it. You'd also see a baseball that's of me in Mamie's clothes, and there's a description of the book on the back. It's a trading card, and my son Brian, the photographer, took it right on my back deck. So, see, we have families too, and we do crazy things together. What else can I tell you? I have a website. It's just my name .com, michelleygreen.com, so, adults, if you can remember, it's user friendly. It's got pictures of Mamie on it, pictures of my family, a video from my son, another music video from my other son, and a video about my dad, a Tuskegee Airman. Now, today, when I leave here, I drive down to Fredericksburg, Virginia to be in a harvest festival. I'm representing the Tuskegee Airmen in an exhibit there for four days. So, I told them "I'm coming in a baseball uniform, but I'll change into my Kathy's [assumed spelling] once I get there [laughs]." So, if you're in town, or if you're free, Saturday, harvest festival, Shannon Airport, and you'll learn about Tuskegee Airmen. They have a P-51, which my father flew. They have a panoramic movie that's going to describing those kinds of things. And like I said, I'm writing his book. It's called "High Flight." There's another website called highflight.academy, but if you go to my website, it'll link you directly to the other website, as well. Any more questions? [ Inaudible Speaker ] Excellent [inaudible]. >> My grandma was an author, and she wrote a book about my dad and uncle. >> Michelle Y. Green: Great. >> And she put it on Amazon. >> Michelle Y. Green: On Amazon. You see, when I was first writing, there was no Amazon. I lived in the dinosaur age, by the way. I have a little secret for you. My birthday is coming up, November 5. Anybody want to take a guess? How old am I going to be? Don't hurt my feelings. Remember, I have a 94-year old mother. How old do you think I am? Take a guess. >> Sixty-seven [laughter]? >> Michelle Y. Green: Actually, you're not that far off [laughs]. >> Sixty-two? >> Michelle Y. Green: I'm 63. I'll be 64 next month. Congratulations. Yes? >> Sixty-five? >> Michelle Y. Green: Oh, he guessed 63. I'm 63. I'll be 64 in a couple of weeks. Yes? >> My birthday's November 24. >> Michelle Y. Green: Really? Congratulations. How old will you be, 67? >> Ten. >> Ten [laughter]. Okay. The same age Mamie was when she started playing ball in her grandmother's backyard. Any other questions? Adults? Oh, let me tell you a little bit about the movie. I'm sorry. Go ahead. >> Back to Mamie's comment was she's been waiting her whole life for somebody to ask her. >> Michelle Y. Green: Right. >> What does she think of the story? I'm curious. >> Michelle Y. Green: Oh, that's a great question. Once I got the research down, the writing was really fast. Once I got all the ideas, I sat down, and I knocked it out in a couple of weeks. So, I took my manuscript to Mamie and said, "Would you please read this before I send it off to my agent to be published and to be edited." And you know what she said to me? "I don't want to read it. I want to be surprised." I said, "Mamie, [laughs] I might have made some mistakes." She said, "Honey, you know me better than anybody. I don't want to read it until it comes out." So, when the book finally arrived in its little box. The first books were in hardback like this. They don't make the hardbacks anymore, only made paperbacks. Thank goodness that they do. Oh, by the way. If you want to listen to it, it's on audible.com. They read the whole book in Mamie's accent on Audible. And by the way, Audible is running a special now, so you can get it for free. So, ask your parents or your caregivers to download it. Your question again? >> What Mamie thought of the story. >> Michelle Y. Green: So, when the book came out, you know what she did? She cried. She cried. And when we go out on tour together, they would introduce her and introduce me, she'd call me her "daughter." And often, she would just break down in tears. My own mother does that, too, sometimes. I think she's crying now [laughs]. That's, okay, you can cry [laughs]. I cry all the time [laughs]. Now, let me tell you just a bit about the movie. It's called "Throw Like a Girl." Where did that expression come from do you think? Anybody want to guess? You. [Inaudible] Yes, when a guy was making fun of her. And you probably have heard this. You're just a girl. What can you do? You throw like a girl. Well, we're proud to throw like a girl. If you can strike people like Hank Baylis is the name. Hank, if you can throw people out like Hank Baylis, I'd be glad to throw as good as that. Throw Like a Girl. It won an award for best script in last February, this past year. I got to go to New York with my sister and see the script writer, a female, Laurie Lahey [phonetic] wrote the script. It was her first time doing a screenplay, and she won an Athena Award for best screenplay. Now, they're in the middle of casting it right now. Can I drop a little nugget? Guess who might be cast? Octavia Spencer. Do you know her? She's a famous actress, and there will be others. So, keep your fingers crossed, and I'll keep everybody in touch with the Library of Congress. Who knows? We might need some extras to sit in the crowd, you know? We'll think about you. So, it's introduction. It's taken 10 years for the film to come this far. Three tries. It's hard to get into films. My son is a filmmaker. It's hard to get into films. It's hard producing a film. But, like Mamie, we're proud to say, "We're trying." And I think it's really going to come to fruition. I think it's going to happen. Anything else? No? >> Last question. >> Michelle Y. Green: Last question. >> How come she cried when the book came out? >> Michelle Y. Green: She cried out of gratitude. She cried out of gratitude. Someone had, finally, written her story, and, because of that book, I'm so proud of that book. Because nobody knew who Mamie was, and now-- Her heart gave out on her-- before she passed, she has what's called a "legacy." Who knows what a legacy is? >> When, like, a lot of people know about you. >> Michelle Y. Green: When a lot of people know about you. It's what you leave behind. So, she knows that, even though she may not be with us anymore, her story is still being enjoyed by people like you. Something else that happened with this book that was really amazing. Authors sometimes get fan letters. It's one of my favorite thing to get a fan letter in the mail or a Tweet. I get Tweets now. Yes, I Twitter. I Facebook. I Tumblr. I do all that stuff. Some of the comments that I've gotten are from women my age and younger who said, "The reason I love your book is because I wanted to play ball when I was little. I wanted to play ball. They wouldn't let me. We played softball. I wanted to play hardball, and we weren't able to. So, thank you very much for showing us that women can do whatever they please if they put their mind to it." That and a little luck. Let me just say this one thing, because I know that in the exhibit someone mentioned that the All-American Girls League was there. Uniforms? Well, Mamie tried out for the All-American Girls. She tried to. It's in the book. I won't tell you what happened. Read it for yourself, but she and her best friend went down to the field-- Actually, it was in Virginia-- to try out. So, when the All-American Girls were finally inducted into Cooperstown-- That's where all the baseball memorabilia and baseball hall of fames in Cooperstown, New York. When they took the All-American Girls and inducted them into the Cooperstown Museum, they invited Mamie to come. What did Mamie say? What did Mamie say? "No way. You didn't want me then. I don't want you now" [laughter]. So, she didn't go be a part of the grand opening when they had the league of their own team inducted there. But there's some good news. Ollie-- We call him "Ollie Bug"-- took Evan, my baseball-playing son to Cooperstown, and I got this phone call. They're selling A Strong Right Arm in Cooperstown [laughs]. So, you see, Mamie got her justice [inaudible]. Oh, that's it. >> Sasha Dowdy: Thank you very much. [ Applause ] Thank you all so much for coming to the Library of Congress for exploring Baseball Americana and for listening to our awesome author talk with Michelle Y. Green [laughs]. How about we say "Thank you for getting us all a copy of the book"? >> Michelle Y. Green: Yup. >> Thank you. >> Michelle Y. Green: You're welcome. >> Sasha Dowdy: Thanks, everybody.