Question
đ Informational Text: âVoices in the Fire: The Atlanta Race Massacre of 1906â
In the fall of 1906, the city of Atlanta was on edge. Though the streets bustled with trolleys and factory workers, tension brewed beneath the surface. African Americans were beginning to rise economicallyâowning barbershops, newspapers, and small businesses in neighborhoods like Sweet Auburn. Meanwhile, white politicians running for governor used race to stir division, and newspapers spread rumors of violence that never happened.
On September 22, 1906, those lies exploded into chaos. That evening, mobs of white men stormed downtown Atlanta, pulling Black men off streetcars and attacking them in the streets. The violence lasted for days, as Black-owned businesses were destroyed and homes set on fire. Families like the Walkers, who lived near Decatur Street, huddled together in their basements, praying the mobs wouldnât find them.
Some African Americans tried to escape the city by foot; others formed protective groups to defend their neighborhoods. The local militia was eventually called in, but by then, at least 25 African Americans had been killed, with many more wounded or arrested without cause. The city tried to cover it up, calling it a "riot" instead of what it truly was: a massacre fueled by fear, lies, and racial hatred.
Despite the tragedy, Atlanta's Black community did not disappear. In the years that followed, survivors like 12-year-old Carrie Walker, who lost her uncle that night, grew up to become leaders, educators, and business owners. Their strength helped shape the future of Georgiaâand their stories must be told.
Question at position 1
1
Essay
100 points
Question at position 1
đ Narrative Writing Prompt:
Using accurate details from the text above, write a first-person narrative as if you are a young person (age 11â14) living in Atlanta during the 1906 Race Massacre.
You may take on the voice of someone like Carrie Walker, or create your own fictional character, but your story must include at least 4 factual details from the article above (e.g., names, places, causes of the violence, or responses to it).
Your narrative should:
Begin with a clear setting and narrator (Who are you? Where are you? Whatâs going on?)
Include accurate historical facts from the informational text
Use descriptive language, sensory details, and emotion
Use dialogue and pacing to show reactions to the event
End with a personal reflection on how this experience changed or impacted your character
In the fall of 1906, the city of Atlanta was on edge. Though the streets bustled with trolleys and factory workers, tension brewed beneath the surface. African Americans were beginning to rise economicallyâowning barbershops, newspapers, and small businesses in neighborhoods like Sweet Auburn. Meanwhile, white politicians running for governor used race to stir division, and newspapers spread rumors of violence that never happened.
On September 22, 1906, those lies exploded into chaos. That evening, mobs of white men stormed downtown Atlanta, pulling Black men off streetcars and attacking them in the streets. The violence lasted for days, as Black-owned businesses were destroyed and homes set on fire. Families like the Walkers, who lived near Decatur Street, huddled together in their basements, praying the mobs wouldnât find them.
Some African Americans tried to escape the city by foot; others formed protective groups to defend their neighborhoods. The local militia was eventually called in, but by then, at least 25 African Americans had been killed, with many more wounded or arrested without cause. The city tried to cover it up, calling it a "riot" instead of what it truly was: a massacre fueled by fear, lies, and racial hatred.
Despite the tragedy, Atlanta's Black community did not disappear. In the years that followed, survivors like 12-year-old Carrie Walker, who lost her uncle that night, grew up to become leaders, educators, and business owners. Their strength helped shape the future of Georgiaâand their stories must be told.
Question at position 1
1
Essay
100 points
Question at position 1
đ Narrative Writing Prompt:
Using accurate details from the text above, write a first-person narrative as if you are a young person (age 11â14) living in Atlanta during the 1906 Race Massacre.
You may take on the voice of someone like Carrie Walker, or create your own fictional character, but your story must include at least 4 factual details from the article above (e.g., names, places, causes of the violence, or responses to it).
Your narrative should:
Begin with a clear setting and narrator (Who are you? Where are you? Whatâs going on?)
Include accurate historical facts from the informational text
Use descriptive language, sensory details, and emotion
Use dialogue and pacing to show reactions to the event
End with a personal reflection on how this experience changed or impacted your character
Answers
GPT-4o mini
**Narrative: A Night of Flames**
My name is Elijah Walker, and I am twelve years old. Sweet Auburn is my home, a neighborhood bustling with life and laughter. The sun is setting, casting a warm orange glow across the rooftops of the stores and barbershops where the air is thick with the smell of fried chicken and the sound of children playing. But tonight, thereâs something heavy in the air. It feels differentâtense, like a storm about to break.
"Elijah, come help me with the last of the bread!" My mother calls from the kitchen. But I canât shake off this strange feeling. As I round the corner into the dim light of our small home, the radio crackles with news. They're saying riots have broken out downtown. "Itâs just rumors,â I assure myself. âThings like this donât happen here.â
Suddenly, the sound of shouts outside pierces the calm. My heart races. I dash to the window and peek through the curtain. A mob of white men is storming the streets, waving clubs and shouting. âGet away from those streetcars!â one man yells as he grabs a Black man and pulls him off. My stomach drops.
âMa!â I call out, my voice trembling. âTheyâre hurting people outside!â My mother rushes to my side, her face pale and filled with fear. âWe need to get to the basement,â she whispers urgently. âNow.â
As we huddle together in the dark, the sounds of chaos seep into our safe spaceâcrashing glass, angry shouts, and the unmistakable crackling of fire. I canât help but think of the store down the street owned by Mr. Thompson. He was kind, always smiling when I went in for a newspaper. âWhy is this happening?â I ask my mother, my voice barely above a whisper.
âI donât know, Elijah,â she replies, her voice shaking. âTheyâre angry because our people are growing, starting businesses, making lives for ourselves.â Her words hit me like a sharp wind. I remember seeing families, strong and resilient, all around meâour community was finally gaining ground. But now, it felt as if all that could be ripped away in an instant.
The nights felt long; terror wrapped around us like a thick fog. When dawn broke, the world outside was unrecognizable. Charred buildings stood as ghosts of what once thrived in Sweet Auburn. I learned later that 25 people were killed, and the local militia was called too late to help. My heart ached for those lives lostâthe fear and anger had boiled over into a massacre, disguised as a âriotâ to the world, but I knew better.
As the days turned into weeks, we emerged from our hiding places, shaken but unbroken. I watched my mother rise with strengthâa leader, teaching me that we could not let hatred drown our spirit. Other families from our neighborhood gathered, sharing stories and deciding to rebuild. Even Carrie Walker, who had lost her uncle, seemed determined to stand strong. Her bravery inspired us all.
Reflecting on that night, I realize now that fear can fuel hatred but can also ignite courage. Weâve all had to throw off the weight of what happened, but it took all of usâscarred, but willingâto stitch our community back together. I will carry this memory, this pain, but also the understanding of our resilience. I wonât let those flames fully define us. Instead, we will rise, stronger and with purpose, determined to shape a future where we thrive in unity, never letting the light of our community dim again.
My name is Elijah Walker, and I am twelve years old. Sweet Auburn is my home, a neighborhood bustling with life and laughter. The sun is setting, casting a warm orange glow across the rooftops of the stores and barbershops where the air is thick with the smell of fried chicken and the sound of children playing. But tonight, thereâs something heavy in the air. It feels differentâtense, like a storm about to break.
"Elijah, come help me with the last of the bread!" My mother calls from the kitchen. But I canât shake off this strange feeling. As I round the corner into the dim light of our small home, the radio crackles with news. They're saying riots have broken out downtown. "Itâs just rumors,â I assure myself. âThings like this donât happen here.â
Suddenly, the sound of shouts outside pierces the calm. My heart races. I dash to the window and peek through the curtain. A mob of white men is storming the streets, waving clubs and shouting. âGet away from those streetcars!â one man yells as he grabs a Black man and pulls him off. My stomach drops.
âMa!â I call out, my voice trembling. âTheyâre hurting people outside!â My mother rushes to my side, her face pale and filled with fear. âWe need to get to the basement,â she whispers urgently. âNow.â
As we huddle together in the dark, the sounds of chaos seep into our safe spaceâcrashing glass, angry shouts, and the unmistakable crackling of fire. I canât help but think of the store down the street owned by Mr. Thompson. He was kind, always smiling when I went in for a newspaper. âWhy is this happening?â I ask my mother, my voice barely above a whisper.
âI donât know, Elijah,â she replies, her voice shaking. âTheyâre angry because our people are growing, starting businesses, making lives for ourselves.â Her words hit me like a sharp wind. I remember seeing families, strong and resilient, all around meâour community was finally gaining ground. But now, it felt as if all that could be ripped away in an instant.
The nights felt long; terror wrapped around us like a thick fog. When dawn broke, the world outside was unrecognizable. Charred buildings stood as ghosts of what once thrived in Sweet Auburn. I learned later that 25 people were killed, and the local militia was called too late to help. My heart ached for those lives lostâthe fear and anger had boiled over into a massacre, disguised as a âriotâ to the world, but I knew better.
As the days turned into weeks, we emerged from our hiding places, shaken but unbroken. I watched my mother rise with strengthâa leader, teaching me that we could not let hatred drown our spirit. Other families from our neighborhood gathered, sharing stories and deciding to rebuild. Even Carrie Walker, who had lost her uncle, seemed determined to stand strong. Her bravery inspired us all.
Reflecting on that night, I realize now that fear can fuel hatred but can also ignite courage. Weâve all had to throw off the weight of what happened, but it took all of usâscarred, but willingâto stitch our community back together. I will carry this memory, this pain, but also the understanding of our resilience. I wonât let those flames fully define us. Instead, we will rise, stronger and with purpose, determined to shape a future where we thrive in unity, never letting the light of our community dim again.