Habibi

Shihab Nye, Naomi. 1999. Habibi. New York: Simon Pulse. ISBN 978-0689825231.

This is poet Naomi Shihab Nye's first novel, and Liyana, the book's tween narrator, clearly has Shihab Nye's gift for language and poetic sensibility. Snippets of Liana's poetry begin each chapter. They not only offer extra insight into Liyana's feelings, but add to the story's beautifully-evoked setting.

The story begins with Liyana, her brother Rafik, and her parents moving from St. Louis to Jerusalem, where her father grew up. It's an adjustment for everyone in the family, including Dr. Abboud, who had believed that tensions between Israelis and Palestinians had lessened while he had been in the US. Details of daily family life are rich and plentiful, and when Liyana's first boyfriend, an Israeli boy named Omer, visits her family, we get the sense that the Abbouds are not only ready to call Jerusalem home, but are also ready to move ahead into a challenging future.

One of my favorite things about this book is the relationship between Liyana and Rafik. Without ever being sappy, they're two of the warmest and wittiest siblings I've ever read about. ("Are you sick?" Liyana asks when Rafik vomits in their hotel room on arrival. "No, dope-dope, that's how we say hello in my language," Rafik says wearily.)

While this book will be a great introduction to Palestinian culture for kids who are unfamiliar with it, it also makes clear that Jerusalem is a mix of many cultures. Liyana goes to an Armenian school where her friends jokingly turn her last name into "Abboudian" so it matches theirs. Rafik is one of the few boy students at a Quaker girls' school. When the family has Christian evangelists over for dinner, the guests understand that the Abbouds are American but assume that they're Jewish.

Violence and political tensions are clearly present, but usually as background to the events of everyday life, as they have to be for residents of Jerusalem who are trying to live as normally as possible.

I was surprised by my reaction to the fact that the Abbouds stay in Jerusalem at the end of the book, and I realized that I had assumed all along that they would move back to the US. There is a genre of "tourist" fiction in which the American expatriates experience a foreign culture and then go back home, but this book is a more realistic portrayal of the immigrant experience. Dr. Abboud has always missed his home, and as he tells Liyana, some, all, or none of the family might go back to the US in the future. Jerusalem is their home, at least for the forseeable future, not a tourist destination to visit and leave.

I would recommend this book to our sizable group of youth patrons who like the Royal Diaries series. It's got a lush setting they're probably unfamiliar with, a tween narrator, and a touch of romance, while being something new and not formulaic!

In the New York Times Book Review, Karen Legget says, "Adolescence magnifies the joys and anxieties of growing up even as it radically simplifies the complexities of the adult world. The poet and anthologist Naomi Shibab Nye is meticulously sensitive to this rainbow of emotion in her autobiographical novel, Habibi…. Habibi gives a reader all the sweet richness of a Mediterranean dessert, while leaving some of the historic complexities open to interpretation."

Legget, Karen. New York Times Book Review. Qtd. in Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/Habibi-Naomi-Shihab-Nye/dp/0689825234/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/102-5676480-3776938?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1186084804&sr=1-1.

Emma and Meesha My Boy

Considine, Karen. 2005. Emma and Meesha My Boy: A Two Mom Story. Illustrated by Binny Hobbs. Two Mom Books: twomombooks.com. ISBN 1-4134-1600-4.

I chose this book when I read a reader review of it on Amazon.com. Reviewer Amy says that most of the GLBT picture books she sees "are fairly predictable and don't have much to offer outside of being a story about gay families." This reminded me of what some of our textbook authors have said about the need for stories that meet the needs of members of a parallel culture rather than just stories that explain the parallel culture to kids from the dominant one. As Amy points out, Emma and Meesha My Boy is rare because it treats the fact that Emma has two mothers as a detail of the story rather than the plot in itself.

Emma is a lively preschooler - a little too lively for Meesha the cat, since Mommy and Mama are always having to tell her not to pick him up, dress him in her clothes, or paint his fur. Eventually she realizes that there are lots of things she can do with Meesha that won't cause anyone to say "no" - like petting him and giving him food and water.

Occasionally the rhyming text doesn't scan, making it sound like the author was making an effort to make her sentence end in the right syllable regardless of what it actually said. But most of the time the text is appealing and bounces along between Emma's experiments and her moms' "Don't do that!"s.

The cartoon-style illustrations aren't anything spectacular, but they work - especially poor Meesha's facial expressions as Emma plays with him. There's only one false note - when Emma is trying to put shoes on Meesha and Mommy yells "Watch out for his claws!" with a big grin on her face. (It's strange especially since Meesha's expression is highly alarmed.)

On the book's website, www.twomombooks.com, Considine says, "The story is not about being different or unique, it makes no big deal of the lesbian moms. They just are everyday parents guiding her to be nice to the cat. In this fashion, it celebrates the lesbian mom family as it is, living ordinary lives."

While neither the writing nor the illustrations are what I would normally consider high-quality, the fact that this book tells a story that kids in two-mom families will be able to identify with makes it worthwhile to add to a collection. And since it's Considine's first book (she self-published it and is selling it through her website and on Amazon), there may be more and better books from her in the future.

On the back jacket, a review by Rosie O'Donnell says, "I read it - I loved it - Chelsea reads it every night."

Amazon.com. "Emma and Meesha My Boy." http://www.amazon.com/Emma-Meesha-My-Boy-Story/dp/1413416004/ref=pd_bbs_1/102-5676480-3776938?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1186080616&sr=8-1.

Two Mom Books. "About the Author." http://www.twomombooks.com/author.html.

Small Steps

Sachar, Louis. 2006. Small Steps. New York: Delacorte. ISBN 978-0385733144.

Fans of Sachar's Holes will be pleased to know that Stanley Yelnats isn't the only one to get a life for himself post-Camp-Greenlake. In Small Steps we see Armpit taking the eponymous steps - finishing high school, getting a landscaping job (he already knows how to dig holes), and becoming friends with his neighbor Ginny, a ten year old with cerebral palsy. Then Armpit and Ginny attend a concert by teen idol Kaira Deleon and end up on stage. A friendship with the friendless star, who's not used to taking small steps, threatens to upset Armpit's equilibrium in more ways than one. But Armpit triumphs and all three kids achieve a satisfying happy ending.

I was initially worried about Ginny's character because I was afraid she would end up being the stereotype of the Saintly Handicapped Child who teaches the main character to be a better person. But Sachar doesn't go there. For one thing, Armpit already is a better person - at least, a better person than most people realize. Ginny accepts him for who he is, just as he accepts her, and that's what makes the two of them friends.

Sachar's descriptions of the accomodations Armpit and Ginny make for her disability are matter-of-fact, as is the discussion of the insensitive questions people ask about Ginny. And in a twist that's unfortunately probably true-to-life, it's the difference in their color - Armpit is African-American and Ginny is Caucasian - that Sachar portrays as causing the most dismay to strangers. Although she isn't the protagonist of the story, Ginny is a well-rounded character with a fully developed personality who isn't defined by her disability.

Small Steps won the ALA Schneider Award for "artistic expression of the disability experience." The ALA said, "Armpit’s humorous adventures portray the unexpected friendship between a recently released juvenile delinquent and 10-year-old Ginny, who has cerebral palsy, as they help each other take incremental steps towards a brighter future. "Small Steps" shows that friendship comes in many shapes, sizes, ages, and abilities."

Ironically, in our library Newberry winners like Holes can be difficult to find because they're displayed in their own section rather than with juvenile or youth fiction. I would use this opportunity both to highlight Small Steps and get Holes out where people can see it, and display both books together in a high-traffic area!

ALA. "The Schneider Family Book Award Application/Nomination." http://www.ala.org/ala/awardsbucket/schneideraward/schneiderfamily.htm.

Project Mulberry

Park, Linda Sue. 2005. Project Mulberry (audiobook). Narrated by Mina Kim and Linda Sue Park. New York: Random House. ISBN 0-307-24536-5.

Julia Song is excited about doing a project for her 4-H like club WGGL with her best friend Patrick. Then the project they settle on turns out to be raising silkworms - something she thinks is "too Korean." When Julia perseveres, deciding that she can't let Patrick down, she has a chance to think a lot of things through - from sustainable farming to prejudice to how to treat her pesky younger brother.

And that's why this story works. Park uses a light touch and portrays the inside of Julia's head as a complex place rather than a one-note song. Julia is as capable of worrying about whether she'll ever complete her collection of state quarters as she is worrying about whether it's true, as she suspects, that her mother is prejudiced against blacks. Overall the story is more uplifting and funny than ponderous. In the end, although all Julia's questions aren't answered, we're left with the feeling that Julia and Patrick are quite capable of tackling any more projects that come their way.

Julia and her parents seem very believable as a contemporary second and first-generation immigrant family. Julia's father, in particular, makes it clear to listeners that Korea is a modern country, a mix of cities and farmland like the US is. And the idea that members of one parallel culture might be prejudiced against another is handled well, with no one coming across as a one-dimensional bad guy but with no easy answers solving everything by the end of the book, either.

A very cool feature of this audiobook is Julia's discussions with Park in between the chapters (Park reads her own parts). As the author herself points out, this is an extra feature that some listeners who are only interested in the story can skip. But kids who are interested in writing will be enthralled by Park's struggles to write the story as it's unfolding.

Listening Library (Random House) made a great decision in casting Mina Kim as Julia. (I still wish they had gotten a Korean actor to narrate Park's A Single Shard, despite the fine narration in the Listening Library recording of that title.) She carries off Julia's many moods as if she remembers perfectly well what it's like to be a tween.

I would display this audiobook prominently at the beginning of summer, when families are vacationing and need CDs for long car trips! Parents and middle-schoolers will both like it, and I think even younger kids will be enthralled by the discussion of the silkworms (and by Julia's younger brother).

AudioFile says, "Kim's tones mirror the contrasts of the bubbly child and the moody teen, the forced brightness of her smile and the uncertainty of her inner voice, the kindness she shows to Mr. Dixon and the impatience she has toward her younger brother. Further, Julia's conversations with author Park between the story chapters, telling the story of the story, are always right. They're delivered in the tones and petulant voice of a teenager who wants life, and her story, to go her way." This recording won the AudioFile Earphones Award.

AudioFile. Qtd. in Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/Project-Mulberry-Linda-Sue-Park/dp/0307245349/ref=sr_1_1/102-5676480-3776938?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1185072639&sr=1-1.

Tea With Milk

Say, Allen. 1999. Tea With Milk. New York: Houghton Mifflin. ISBN 0-395-90495-1.

I love the saturated colors and the open space in Allen Say's artwork. They're very different from the more common brights, pastels, and crowded pages of many children's books. Say's books give me the feeling that I'm looking into an old picture album. That's the perfect impression to have when reading Tea With Milk.

Tea With Milk is the story of how Say's mother and father met. It's also the story of Say's mother's decision not to follow the Japanese tradition of marriage arranged through a matchmaker, but to get a job and live on her own, more like the young women she knew when her family lived in California. Together, Say's parents make choices - and ultimately, make a home - by realizing that it's up to them to decide how to incorporate the culture they know into their lives.

In some ways, this book could come across as stereotypical. Knowing English is the way Say's mother gets a better job, and following American customs, not traditional Japanese ones, brings the couple together. But the story isn't a one-sided pro-American one. The western business suits and skyscrapers in Osaka, where Say's mother gets a job, point to the fact that japanese culture isn't locked into some mythical past, but grows and changes like any other. And when any culture changes, people change with it.

The point of Tea With Milk isn't to bash tradition. It's both respectful and hopeful - for Say, a look at his own past, and for the reader, a look into what life was like in the changing times of this particular time and place.

I would display this book with other true stories of author's families in earlier times, like Tomie De Paola's 26 Fairmont Avenue books.

Publisher's Weekly says, "Through choice words and scrupulously choreographed paintings, Say's story communicates both the heart's yearning for individuality and freedom and how love and friendship can bridge cultural chasms."

Publisher's Weekly. Qtd in Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/Tea-Milk-Allen-Say/dp/0395904951/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/102-5676480-3776938?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1185071948&sr=1-1.

When the Circus Came to Town

Yep, Laurence. 2002. When the Circus Came to Town. Ill by Suling Wang. New York: Harper Collins. ISBN 0-06-029325-X.

Yep says in a preface that this wonderful book is based on a real event that happened in Trembles, Montana in the early 1900s. He says, "I would never have dared try to make up a multicultural tale like this." The story absolutely works, however, and is all the more inspiring because it's true.

Ursula is a spunky and imaginative girl who leads all the rest of the children in her tiny Montana town in pirate adventures. Then a bout with smallpox leaves her with a scarred face and she refuses to come out of her room. Because her parents couldn't run their stagecoach station and still nurse Ursula while she was ill, they have hired a Chinese man named Ah Sam as the station's cook. Ah Sam gradually draws Ursula out of hiding but can't convince her to leave her house. When Ursula includes Ah Sam in their family's Christmas, he responds by bringing her a circus - in the form of his cousins, acrobats and circus performers. Then, when the Ah family is snowed in and can't leave town to celebrate Chinese New Year in Chinatown, the town celebrates Chinese New Year with them.

Ah Sam is a well-rounded character whose cultural markers ring true for his time and place. A particularly effective scene involves a rude customer tripping Ah Sam on purpose and telling Ah Sam to apologize. He does, but the stagecoach driver immediately points out that it isn't because Ah Sam is afraid - it's because he could be killed for hitting a white man. Yep shows Ah Sam being both angry and unafraid, rather than being a stereotypical "meek Asian."

Yep sensitively explores the issue of prejudice. Ursula's own term for prejudiced people is "donkeys," and she decides that it's the same donkey people who laugh at her scarred face and treat Ah Sam badly because he's Chinese. While this helps her feel that she isn't alone, it also activates her old Pirate Ursula instincts. Like a wily pirate, she realizes that when the heartache of discrimination can't be eliminated, it's possible to rise above it.

The townspeople are a believable multicultural group on their own, including the Schultz family, who are recent immigrants, Tom, who is a Sioux, and people whose names sound French or Cajun, German, and English.

Publisher's Weekly says, "Bolstered by themes of compassion, community and tolerance, this story is among Yep's most assured. With dry humor and a keen ear for dialogue, the author includes deft characterizations and offers a window onto Asian-American history and culture. Wang, who illustrated Yep's The Magic Paintbrush, contributes detailed b&w drawings that underscore the volume's more serious themes."

This story has enough plot twists and adventure to make an excellent read-aloud. I would also display it for Chinese New Year, especially since it's based on a true story!

Publisher's Weekly. Qtd. in Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/When-Circus-Came-Town-Laurence/dp/0064409651/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/102-5676480-3776938?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1184716728&sr=1-1.

Sees Behind Trees

Dorris, Michael. 1996. Sees Behind Trees. New York: Hyperion. ISBN 0-7868-0224-3.

The back jacket of my copy of this book says it takes place "before Pocahontas"; reviews say the setting is sixteenth-century America. But Sees Behind Trees seems to me to have more in common with Lois Lowry's books The Giver and Messenger than with conventional historical fiction. In all three of these books, the authors create a setting that's conventional on the surface and mystical underneath. In Sees Behind Trees, the setting comes close to being a character itself, playing a vital role in the climactic events of this mesmerizing story.

Sees Behind Trees' weak eyesight has left him unable to do things like shoot a bow, but taught him to pay attention to his hearing to such an extent that he seems to be able to see things that others can't. When the community becomes aware of his gift at his naming ceremony, wheels start turning in the mind of Gray Fire, an elder and the twin brother of the weroance, the leader of the community. Gray Fire has never been able to forget a mystical place he calls the "land of water," a place he discovered once but could never find his way back to. He believes that Sees Behind Trees, with his special talent, can lead him back.

Even this plot could turn out to be a conventional adventure story, but it isn't. The land of water holds more secrets even than Gray Fire suspects, and Sees Behind Trees must confront not only the ones he encounters there, but the ones he encounters when he returns home.

Dorris is apparently of Modoc ancestry, according to his Wikipedia article. However, Elizabeth Cook-Lynn, a respected Native American scholar, refused to accept his writing in the journal she edited because she disputed his claim of Native American ancestry. In her recent book Anti-Indianism in Modern Ameria, she includes a chapter titled "A Mixed-Blood, Tribeless Voice in American Indian Literatures: Michael Dorris." (Unfortunately, I couldn't find this book on ebrary or Net Library, so I couldn't read the chapter for myself.)

Knowing this intensified the doubts I already had about the story. Unlike the Bruchac's picture book, which had excellent authors' notes, and Cynthia Leitich Smith's novel, which she wrote in detail about on her own blog, this story had no information placing it in time, place, or tribe except for a dedication saying that Dorris is "endebted to" Helen Roundtree for her book The Powhatan Indians of Virginia. Dorris says he recommends the book "to all who wish to learn more about the peoples imagined in these pages." This raises more questions than it answers, since it seems to suggest that Dorris might not have known any more about this tribe or its history than he read in Roundtree's book.

On top of this, an incident in the book sticks in my mind. On their travels, Gray Fire and Sees Behind Trees come across a family that doesn't speak their language and apparently comes from another tribe. Sees Behind Trees is incredulous: "Do you mean that there are people besides us? Actual people?" He has to be talked out of thinking that the strangers are ghosts.

This seemed bizarre to me. I could believe that a young man might not have seen strangers before, but not to know that there were real people besides the ones he lived with? To me it made everyone in Sees Behind Trees' community seem crazily primitive and unintelligent. It's the kind of detail that I would only accept with some kind of explanation and historical corroboration.

The question of authority in writing multicultural books for children is a thorny one. In this case, however, my best judgment is that I wouldn't include this book in a collection of Native American literature for young people. As a fantasy, it's first-rate. There's just not enough evidence to convince me that it's not only a fantasy.

In the New York Times Book Review, Nancy Cardozo says ""Sees-Behind-Trees" is a fine example of a rite-of-passage novel that can be read as metaphor or message."

In a starred review, Booklist said the book has "the gravity of legend" and continues, "Dorris once again demonstrates that he is a brilliant and deeply humane writer whose words can show you something you have never seen."

Amazon.com Online Reader. Anti-Indianism in Modern America.

Booklist. Qtd. in Powells.com. http://www.powells.com/biblio?show=TRADE%20PAPER:NEW:9780786813575:4.99#synopses_and_reviews.

Cardozo, Nancy. January 19, 1997. "Children's Books." New York Times Book Review. http://www.nytimes.com/books/97/01/19/reviews/970119.cardozo.html?_r=2&oref=slogin&oref=login.

Wikipedia.org. "Michael Dorris." http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Dorris.