I’d describe myself as a nonfiction dabbler. I love to learn, but my enjoyment of a book depends greatly on the strength of its storytelling. Nonfiction books can sometimes be, quite frankly, dry as a loaf of stale bread in the desert. Some people love that dry-as-a-bone writing, and I respect them for it. My late grandfather, who taught history, greatly preferred the facts written with no embellishment or editorializing. His intellectual appetite was well-adapted to the stale bread variety of nonfiction.
Mine is not.
I enjoy nonfiction that both teaches and compels me. Nonfiction that makes history feel closer to the present day, more relevant than remote, alive rather than forgotten.
So when one of my favorite online educators, Sharon McMahon, announced her book The Small and the Mighty, I ordered a copy immediately.
Sharon McMahon was a government and law teacher for many years, and now teaches her online audience about history, government, and politics, while also parsing complicated current events into clear, digestible facts. I knew her book would be smart, with astute analysis and great writing.
I didn’t expect it to make me cry.
I often bring a book with me to the gym - a bribe of sorts to stay on the treadmill for longer, ha! So I toted The Small and the Mighty with me, even though it’s a hardcover and thus, rather annoying to hold while on the treadmill, because I was just so excited to read it.
It fully lived up to my expectations of it; it was indeed smart, the analysis astute, and the writing sharp, clear, and compelling. And then it made me cry on the treadmill. So I read the rest at home, where I could keep tissues handy.
I have to admit that it actually took me a while to finish it, because it was so emotionally compelling. I couldn’t read it at the gym, nor was it a great bedtime book, because I was so enthralled and emotionally invested, that it left me too awake and full of thoughts. So I slowly read in fits and spurts when I could catch moments of down time to pair each slice of history with a cup of coffee or tea.
The Small and the Mighty is a book about Americans who shaped our country. Not the big names whose legacies are emblazoned on universities and libraries, but the ordinary people who made immense contributions to our nation because it was the right thing to do.
I found myself deeply moved (clearly, I was crying at the gym!) by each and every person featured throughout the book. And deeply grateful to know that not only do I get to learn from and carry forward a legacy of Great Americans like Washington and Hamilton, but I also inherit the legacy of the small and mighty Americans, whose enduring greatness doesn’t come from accolades or dominance, but from dedication, steadfastness, kindness, and hope.
The Small and the Mighty is a powerful reminder of what makes America what it is: people of all backgrounds and circumstances striving for a better tomorrow. Not just for themselves, but for their neighbors, for their communities, and for people they’ll never meet, in communities they’ll never visit, maybe even in futures they’ll never see.
The Founding Fathers framed the Constitution, and for generations since, small and mighty Americans have painted the portrait of America; complex, imperfect, colorful, full of light and darkness, discord and harmony. I hope that we will continue to paint this portrait as one of kindness rather than exclusion, hope rather than hatred, and acceptance rather than fear.
If you are a nonfiction dabbler like me, I highly recommend Sharon McMahon’s The Small and the Mighty. It will compel you from the very first paragraph - no stale bread dryness in sight.
But bring tissues if you plan to read it at the gym!