BIPOC characters

The Magnificent Mya Tibbs: Spirit Week Showdown

Leave a comment

spiritweekshowdownby Crystal Allen
First sentence: “I’m only wearing five braids to school today.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Review copy snagged from the ARC shelves at the bookstore.
Content: There’s a bit of mean girl-ness, and bullying, but the language is simple and the story pretty straight-forward. Give it to a strong second grade reader and up.

Fourth grader Mya Tibbs’s elementary school always has a Spirit Week competition right before the fall festival in their small Texas town. It’s always a tough competition, but this year the stakes are higher: VIP seats to the festival. Mya is sure that she and her best friend, Naomi, are going to win. Except they don’t get chosen as partners: Mya is paired with the school bully, Connie. And she won’t trade. Which makes Naomi more than mad, it means that she and Mya are no longer best friends. Period.

But as Spirit Week goes on, Mya realizes that she’s having fun with Connie, and that maybe things aren’t exactly what they seem.

This was such a charming school story.  The stakes weren’t high, but a fourth grader, they were high enough. Friendship is important, as is doing something fun and doing it well. And even though the whole pageantry of the Spirit Week felt really implausible (all the people were SO good at everything they did!), I rolled with it. I liked that Mya figured out what a real friend is like, and found out that she could stay true to her interests and herself on her own time line. It was wonderful that the main character was a person of color, as well. It’s a great early chapter book.

Rebel of the Sands

3 Comments

rebelofthesandsby Alwyn Hamilton
First sentence: “They said the only folks who belonged in Deadshot after dark were the ones who were up to no good.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Release date: March 8, 2016
Review copy provided by the publisher.
Content: There’s some pretty disturbing violence near the end of the book. It’s in the YA section (grades 6-8) of the bookstore.

The store’s Penguin children’s rep (whom I adore, and not just because she’s got an Irish accent) told me when she handed me the ARC of this book that it was Totally Brilliant and that I was going to Totally Love It. (Just imagine that in an Irish accent. She’s great.) I said okay, I’ll read it. And then it got stuck on the back burner. Things crept up, and then A stole it from me and plowed through it. And she said that it was really really good and I should totally read it. And still it was on the back burner.

(This is less a review a more of a “why didn’t I read this SOONER” post. Sorry.)

But then a day came when I was shuffling through my shelves and piles looking for something Really Good, and this finally Called to me.

And as I plowed through the first two chapters — in which our heroine, Amani Al’Hiza finds herself in a shooting contest in order to get out of her dead-end desert town and away from her lecherous uncle and demanding aunt — and was hooked. Seriously. I was reminded of Harry from The Blue Sword and of Katsa from Graceling and I was in love. I plowed through this book like I didn’t have to work or do dishes or manage four kids in the house.  (Some people are calling it East Meets West — it’s set in a Middle Eastern-like country, with djinn but there’s guns — but I disagree. Sure, it’s pulling on all influences, but I really didn’t get the whole “Western” vibe. It’s a fantasy with guns instead of swords. I can go with that.) I loved the characters (yeah, so I called the love interest from the first chapter, but I did love the twists that came), I loved the complexity of the mythology Hamilton created, I loved that she didn’t give me a clean ending. (I didn’t love that it’s probably not a stand-alone, but at least it came to a conclusion.) It definitely hit all the right buttons for me.

Which leads me to say, don’t do what I did and put this one off. It really is THAT good.

Three Books for African American History Month

1 Comment

I wrote this in my introduction to my newsletter:

I saw this video on Facebook a while back, and it got me thinking. Especially the part where they say that black history begins with slavery and ends with Martin Luther King, Jr. It helped that it came on the heels of the scandal surrounding A Birthday Cake for George Washington. I especially appreciated this post by author Mitali Perkins is definitely worth checking out. Both things together have made me more aware of the importance of diversity in children’s books, and made me more determined to search out more honest portrayals of black life.

I think that’s true, and as a result, I tried to find books that reflected the African American experience but didn’t have anything to do with slavery or civil rights. The three I came up with are these:

97808075301779780062342331 9781442459489

Gordon Parks: How the Photographer Captured Black and White America by Carolyn Boston Weatherford, illustrated by Jamey Cristoph

The Magnificent Mya Tibbs: Spirit Week Showdown by Crystal Allen

When I Was the Greatest by Jason Reynolds

A confession: I haven’t read any of these. But I think it’s definitely something I can rectify.

What would you have picked?

Peas and Carrots

Leave a comment

peasandcarrotsby Tanita S. Davis
First sentence: “By the door,on the other side of the sheet that divides the room, Baby cries in his car seat.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Release date: February 9, 2016
Disclaimer: I’ve met the author, working with her for KidlitCon in Sacramento and I find her an absolutely delightful person.
Review copy snagged off the ARC shelves at my place of employment.
Content: There are several instances of mild swearing, plus some illusions to adult drug and alcohol use. Because there are no f-bombs, it’ll be in the YA section (grades 6-8, though it might be better for the older end of that spectrum) of the bookstore.

Dess is a 15-year-old girl stuck in the foster care system. Her deadbeat dad’s finally in jail, as is her mom. Dess’s grandmother gave up trying to care for her and her baby brother years ago. Dess is determined: she doesn’t need anyone. And so when she gets placed in a new home, one of an affluent family, she figures it’s not going to last.

Hope’s parents are stable and happy and take in foster kids, including Dess’s brother Austin, to give back to the community. Hope’s used to the revolving door of kids, but there’s never been one close to her age. Until now. And since Dess is doing pretty much everything to keep people at arm’s length, Hope knows that living with Dess is going to be a challenge. She just doesn’t know if she’ll be able to adjust.

First test: which one of these girls is African American and which one is white? (Answer: Dess is white. Did you pass?) That’s actually one of the first things I liked about this: Davis takes your (my) assumptions about foster care, about the State of the Country, and turns it upside down. In this story, the white girl is the one who’s on the run from an abusive family and the black girl who has the stable life. And Davis doesn’t leave it there; there’s discussion about race and class and belonging, which I respect.

And, as an unofficial foster parent myself, I found myself nodding and agreeing and loving the entire book. Yes, the kids come with baggage and a backstory that usually isn’t pretty. Yes, their lives can be changed by living in a stable, more affluent (though we’re not nearly as well off as Hope’s parents) situation. But Davis also got the corollary to that: having a foster kid in your home is challenging, sometimes disruptive, but is also life-changing. And, if you let yourself — as Hope and Dess eventually find out — you will be better off for it.

Definitely worth reading.

Nomad

Leave a comment

nomadby William Alexander
First sentence: “Nadia Antonovna Kollontai, the ambassador of her world, was not on her world.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Review copy provided by the publisher.
Others in the series (though I’ve not read it): Ambassador
Content: There’s some intense moments, and maybe some difficult made-up words, but I’d give it to a 4th grader or higher. It would be in the middle grade (grades 3-5) sections of the bookstore.

I didn’t know what to expect heading into  William Alexander’s latest. From the cover, something in space, most likely. What I got was an epic adventure that involved aliens, space travel, time travel, and kids learning to put aside biases and learning to work together. There’s also a side story (which was never truly fleshed out to my satisfaction, but it didn’t deter from my overall enjoyment) about deporting illegal immigrants and how that affects people. In short: there’s a lot packed into this one.

From what I understand, Gabe and Nadia’s story begins in Ambassador, but since this is a Cybils book (I could have checked it out, but I honestly didn’t know until after I’d finished Nomad) I just dove right in. And aside from some initial getting used to the world that Alexander had created — a world in which aliens from all over space and time meet together in a dream space that you get to by, well, dreaming — I fell headfirst into the story and thoroughly enjoyed my time there.

I really enjoyed the problem-solving aspect of this as well. Nadia has been in space for 40 years (and hasn’t aged; isn’t speed-of-light travel fun?) and has to learn how to get along without her sight (she lost it in a failed experiment). She didn’t moan or whine about it; she just tackled the problem and looked for solutions. Gabe was the same way with being put into a new situation with being the Ambassador of Earth. He needed to learn the rules and guidelines and how to cooperate with people who are vastly different from him, and he did.

The only thing I didn’t think fit exactly was the subplot involving Gabe’s dad being deported. It did give Alexander an excuse to use a holding area near the border in Arizona, and to spotlight the awful conditions that immigrants (especially children) were being held in. But, other than that, it really didn’t serve much of a purpose to the overall story.

But even with that one little quibble, it was a delightful book, one I’m glad I read.

(Just for the record: because this is a Cybils nominee, I’ve been asked to make sure y’all know this is my opinion only, and not that of the panel.)

To Catch a Cheat

Leave a comment

by Varian Johnson
First sentence: “Jackson Greene placed his pen on his desk, loosened his red tie, then flipped the page on his American History exam.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Review copy provided by publisher.
Release date: January 26, 2016
Others in the series: The Great Greene Heist
Content: There’s a slight romance. It’ll be in the middle grade (grades 3-5) section of the bookstore.

Jackson Greene’s in retirement. Again. For real this time. No more cons. No more heists. He’s focusing on getting Gaby de la Cruz to be his girlfriend and on passing American History. Then he gets called into the office: someone flooded the bathrooms and ruined the carpets over the weekend, and the principal is convinced it’s Jackson and his crew.

Except it’s not: every single member of the crew has an alibi for the time frame, albeit ones they’re reluctant to give. And then Jackson is texted a video — obviously faked — of him and his crew performing the prank. It’s blackmail: steal the answers to the huge American History test or the principal gets the video and Jackson gets suspended.

There’s more to the plot than that, of course, including a brilliant long con with lots of twists and turns. Sure, it’s implausible, but it’s a lot of fun as well. The diverse cast is back as well, which is also incredibly gratifying. It’s very nice to have a fun book with diverse characters and have it be (mostly) issue-free. (I’m not sure how well the Asian kids came out of this; the character development of the minor characters seemed a little weak, but maybe Johnson was relying on what he did in the first book?)

I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The Memory of Light

Leave a comment

by Francisco X. Stork
First sentence: “Nana, I tried to write you in Spanish by my Espanol no es muy bueno en este momento.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Release date: January 26, 2016
Review copy provided by the publisher.
Content: There’s frank talk of depression and suicide, a few mild swear words, one (maybe two?) f-bombs, and some indirect drug use. Nothing too bad, though, so it’ll probably be in the YA (grades 6-8) section at the bookstore.

Vicky should have the perfect life. Her father is a high-powered Latino businessman, so she’s never wanted for anything. She goes to a high-powered private school, she has a popular boy who likes her. But. She doesn’t feel like anything’s worth living for. Her Nana is being sent back to Mexico, in spite of having been a part of the family since before Vicky was born. Vicky’s constantly being compared to her “perfect” older sister; she’s never quite good enough, smart enough, driven enough. So, one night, she decides to take her own life.

Except, it doesn’t work. She finds herself in the mental ward of a hospital, walking to a therapist and a group of other mentally ill teenagers — bi-polar, anger management, schizophrenic — wondering if there is a way to have depression rather than to be depressed.

I can’t tell you how much I loved this book. I am SO glad that there is a book out there about depression and suicide that isn’t depressing as well. Yes, Vicky is sad, a sadness that is impossibly empty, but the book itself finds hope and healing in it. Slowly, Vicky finds reasons to live, she finds her voice, she finds friends, she finds a community to connect with, and she figures out ways to deal with this depression she has. On top of that, in Stork’s hands this story — which is personal for him, since he suffers from depression as well — has a heart and soul that reached out and grabbed me. He’s so good a portraying pain, but he’s also incredible at portraying healing and friendship, all of which I needed at this point in my life.

Excellent.

Mars Evacuees

2 Comments

marsevacueesby Sophia McDougall
First sentence: “When the polar ice advanced as far as Nottingham, my school was closed and I was evacuated to Mars.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Content: There’s several mild swear words and some violence (including bullying). It would be in the middle grade (grades 3-5) section of the bookstore.

It’s sometime in the future, and the Earth has shared its home with an alien species, the Morrors. The problem? The Morrors are changing the nature of the earth, freezing it over, and that’s got the humans mad. So, they started waging war against the Morrors, trying to kick them out. But it’s not working, mostly because they’re invisible to the human eye.

So, the humans are resorting to evacuating a select group of kids to Mars to train for combat. Alice Dare, whose mother is a star fighter pilot in this war, is one of those kids.

At first, it seems to be like any other boarding school: there are bullies, and Alice makes some friends — another English girl named Josephine and an annoying boy named Carl and his younger brother Noel — and everything seems to be going okay. Then, one day, all the adults disappear.

Most of the school goes haywire, but Josephine and Alice (along with Carl, Noel, and their robot teacher Goldfish) decide that what they really need to do is go find the adults. What they end up finding is a whole lot of trouble.

Oh. My. Gosh. I know the summary didn’t do this justice because it was the most awesome I’ve read in a long time. It’s smart, it’s funny, there’s fantastic characters, it’s packed with adventure, it’s diverse. It kept me hooked from page one through the conclusion. (And while there’s a sequel, this one stands on its own.) It was just so. much. fun.  Seriously.

(Just for the record: because this is a Cybils nominee, I’ve been asked to make sure y’all know this is my opinion only, and not that of the panel.)

Hunters of Chaos

Leave a comment

huntersofchaosby Crystal Velasquez
First sentence: “My muscles burn as the thick green jungle vines speed by in a blur.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Content: The characters are in high school and there’s some bullying and a little bit of romance (he like likes me!) but otherwise, it’s appropriate for the middle grade (grades 3-5) section of the bookstore.

Ana is an orphan (oh no!) living with her aunt and uncle, who happen to be enthusiastic scholars and collectors of Mayan artifacts. It’s their heritage, as well as Ana’s, and they’re incredibly proud of it. Even though Ana misses her parents, she’s incredibly happy. Then, the summer before high school, Ana gets a letter admitting her to to her parents’ alma matter, Temple Academy. Her aunt and uncle are a bit wary, but they send her off anyway.

At first, Ana tries to fit in with the super rich, super popular girls, which includes her roommate, Nicole. But, she soon finds out that fitting in costs way too much (both financially and morally). She ends up being friends with Doli, who’s Navajo, and Shani, who’s Egyptian. It turns out that the three of them — four with Lin, who’s Chinese, and a bit of a bully at first — are part of something bigger, something more ancient than any of them had ever expected.

It’s so hard for me not to spoil this book because it really was awesome. Not only are four of the main characters people of color (and descended from ancient civilizations which the author respects, I think) but they do some awesome things. There’s a whole scene near the end of the book that just had me cheering. There was a bit of a bullying dynamic and the love triangle-y stuff was a bit much (More adventure! More magic! Less love!), but it wasn’t enough to get me to dislike this. There’s just so much to love.

Give it to all those kids who are reading the Warrior books. They’d love it.

(Just for the record: because this is a Cybils nominee, I’ve been asked to make sure y’all know this is my opinion only, and not that of the panel.)

Between the World and Me

Leave a comment

betweentheworldby Ta-Nehisi Coates
First sentence: “Son, Last Sunday the host of a popular news show asked me what it meant to lose my body.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Content: There is some swearing, including a couple f-bombs and the use of the n-word. It’s in the Sociology section (I think) of the bookstore.

By now, most of you will have either heard of this or read it, I think. There’s not much to say, summary-wise; it’s a letter from Coates to his son concerning what Coates thinks about being a black man in America. It’s sort of rambling, and kind of disjointed; it feels like a series of random thoughts jotted down on a piece of paper as Coates was musing about his place in this world. Which fits, I think.

What it is, really, is damning. Especially if you, as Coates put it, think you’re white. There’s a complacency that comes with being white, with being privileged (even if you’re “just” middle class), that isn’t afforded to those who are not. And Coates, rightly, forcefully, reminds us of that. Reminds us that to be black — particularly a black male, since he’s writing from his own experience — is to bear the burdens of all our complacency. That our “freedom” isn’t free, and that it’s not the military who are paying for it. That all these shootings that are making the news aren’t new, that they have been going on for hundreds of years, and those that think they are white just throw up their hands and turn a blind eye.

One passage that really struck me:

I am ashamed I made an error, knowing that our errors always cost us more. This is the import of history all around us, though very few people like to think about it. Had I informed this woman that when she pushed my son, she was acting according to a tradition that held black bodies as lesser, her response would likely have been “I am not a racist.” Or maybe not. But my experience in this world has been that the people who believe themselves to be white are obsessed with the politics of personal exoneration.

It’s a difficult read, because he condemns everyone and offers no answers. There’s no solutions, possibly because Coates doesn’t have any, and I found that a difficult thing to swallow. I want to know HOW I can change, what I can do to make a difference. Perhaps reading books like this is a start; it has made me aware that there are black men and women who think this way, who believe that they are lesser because we let police arrest and shoot them. Who are not given the same opportunities because they can’t afford to buy a house in the suburbs. Who are treated differently when they walk into stores just because of the color of their skin.

It does make me feel hopeless, in a way. But, on the other hand, I’ve read this and I’ve been made aware. Maybe that’s a start.