Radical: The Science, Culture, and History of Breast Cancer in America by Kate Pickert

★★★½

This book intertwines the author's personal experiences with breast cancer with explorations of topics related to breast cancer.

There was a lot I liked about this book. Published just this year, it was up-to-date on modern advances and clinical trials. It picked up where Her2: The Making of Herceptin, a Revolutionary Treatment for Breast Cancer by Robert Bazell (published in 1998) and The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer by Siddhartha Mukherjee (published in 2010) left off. For example, the book goes beyond the success of Herceptin, and introduces Perjeta and Kadcyla, two more recently developed targeted therapies for HER2-positive breast cancer.

I appreciated that the author shed light on some of the more controversial and little known aspects of breast cancer. The very first chapter presented eye-opening information on the fact that mammograms underdetect some cancers and overdiagnose others, particularly in younger women. The second-to-last chapter focused on metastatic breast cancer and, in the absence of a cure, the need for more treatment options that could better extend the lives of metastatic patients.  

I found the chapter on the Susan G. Komen foundation particularly interesting, from the beginnings of the pink ribbon to the criticisms they've received and their efforts to re-brand themselves in recent years. The book as a whole provided a keen juxtaposition of the celebratory images of pink-washed breast cancer "survivors" against the harsh reality of painful surgery, debilitating cancer treatment, and marginalized metastatic patients who know they will not survive the disease.

I also really enjoyed the chapter on Taxol, a federal funding for scientific research success story. The author humanized the history of Taxol by telling its story through the people who discovered and helped develop the drug. As a breast cancer patient currently receiving chemotherapy with Taxol, I feel personally grateful for every individual who helped bring the drug to market.

All that said, I couldn't really bring myself to give this book a higher rating. Topics varied widely, and though the book was loosely organized along a chronology of the author's experience from diagnosis through treatment, the narrative seemed to jump disjointedly from one subject to the next.

Several times, the text mentioned "a subtype of breast cancer", but then failed to identify the particular subtype in context. I found this lack of detail frustrating, especially when the book, in other places, did describe subtypes (e.g., estrogen-receptor-positive, HER2-positive, etc.). Not providing such clarifications in all contexts just made those sections seem arbitrarily vague.

The biggest issue I had with the book was its lack of discussion on the choice to not reconstruct after mastectomy surgery. Considering the book's bold presentation of other controversial topics, I think it was a disservice to not fully explore the path of non-reconstruction, i.e., "going flat", with the same validity as reconstruction, especially since the author states that "[n]early 40 percent of women who have mastectomies opt to have plastic surgery" (p. 233), which means that a 60% majority of women do not reconstruct. The author discusses at length her decision-making process for various parts of her treatment, but she did not at all address how or why she chose to reconstruct; it was considered a given.

I was particularly bothered by the chapter on reconstruction being titled "Whole Again", implying that a woman who has a double mastectomy is not "whole" unless they undergo reconstruction. As someone who had a double mastectomy and chose to go flat, I can say with confidence that I feel whole. I wish the author had interviewed breast surgeons who are skilled in flat closure, and I wish she had included the accounts of women who chose to go flat and how they made their decisions, including women who first had reconstructive surgery and then later decided to explant. For a book that seemed tapped into current trends, it was a glaring omission to not at all mention the existence of the "flat movement", including organizations like Flat Closure NOW, which helps to spread awareness and shed light on issues experienced by women who choose to go flat.

To a lesser extent, I also wish the author hadn't shied away from controversy related to cold-capping. Given the book's emphasis on empowering women with knowledge to make their own decisions, I think the book should have mentioned the possible risks, small as they may be.

Overall, a lot of valuable information makes this book a worthwhile read. I understand the topics in the book were driven by the author's personal experiences, but I still wish additional perspectives could have been included, too.

Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities #4) by Shannon Messenger

★★★★½

*** Warning: This review contains spoilers!! ***

I really enjoyed this installment! Sophie and the gang are now working with the Black Swan, so it's a pretty satisfying beginning. The first half of the book focused on Prentice, then the spotlight turned to Exillium, but there was a flow to the events, and there was a clear story arc involving the gnomes that tied it all together for the conclusion. There were lots of surprising revelations, plus a couple major events at the very end, one very poignant, the other a twist to set up the next book.

Ultimately, my rating is short of 5 stars because of some developments that seemed just too easy, or too simplistic. For example, Exillium's harsh practices were long-standing, yet Sophie was able to effect a full 180-degree change simply by telling two Councillors the truth? Did the Councillors really not know? Was there literally no oversight at Exillium?! Also, the whole idea that the Black Swan, and Della, would let 7 kids walk into Ravagog with only Alvar as a guide was a bit much, too. The Black Swan went out of their way to be secretive, but suddenly they needed Alvar's ogre knowledge, and they brought him on board, welcomed him to their hideout, assigned him a very important task without asking him to swear fealty first, and completely disregarded how Alvar used to argue with Alden against the Black Swan! Tam and Linh were equally unvetted, but at least they had nothing to lose, and good reason to help the gnomes.

Dear Friend: Letters of Encouragement, Humor, and Love for Women with Breast Cancer by Gina L. Mulligan

★★★★

A lovely collection of short letters to encourage and support women who have breast cancer. (Though men can and do get breast cancer, many of the letters assume the reader is a woman, as the book's subtitle indicates.)

A friend gave me this book when I was undergoing chemotherapy for breast cancer, and it was just what I needed to feel supported. It makes a perfect gift.

Most of the letters are written by women, some of whom are fellow survivors. There are a few letters here and there from men and children. I was impressed to find that letters from teenagers showed remarkable wisdom. In my reading, for every letter that did not quite resonate with me, there was at least one other that said exactly the words I needed to hear/read.

It's probably best not to read this book cover-to-cover in one sitting; instead, keep it nearby and pick it up whenever you need a little comfort.  

Overall extremely uplifting, but with a twinge of bittersweetness with the realization that complete strangers were able to provide more meaningful support than some of my own friends and family. Then again, these letters must have been carefully curated out of thousands to include only the most powerful and heartfelt words.

It's worth noting that all the letters in this book are printed as they were originally handwritten. I loved the beautiful pages of colorful stationery and doodles, and I enjoyed each letter-writer's unique penmanship. It occurs to me that maybe a younger generation of survivors might not appreciate the handwriting as much, since many schools no longer teach cursive.

The Land (Logans #1) by Mildred D. Taylor

★★★★★

A worthy prequel to Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry, The Land is an equally important and just as engrossing must-read book.

Taking place soon after the Civil War, The Land presents the reality of post-Civil War racism and white supremacy. This book is middle grade, though it does have some mature ideas along the lines of how the main character's married white father took his black mother to be "his colored woman". 

Mildred D. Taylor has an unparalled talent for both storytelling and character creation. Each richly-developed character offered a complex perspective to the story. There's Paul-Edward, the main character, whose black mama was owned by his white daddy before the Civil War, and who struggled greatly in his coming-of-age years to understand his own identity and his place in society. There's Hammond, George, and Robert, Paul-Edward's white half-brothers, who themselves needed to make decisions about being white while still staying loyal to family, regardless of race. There's Paul-Edward's white father, who does his best to raise and treat all his children equally while still maintaining a "respectable" place in a racist society, and also while having to teach Paul-Edward the reality of his place and position as a person of color. And there's Mitchell, the black boy whose family lives and works on Paul-Edward's father's land, who is at first resentful of Paul-Edward's half-whiteness, but then eventually comes to understand Paul-Edward. It is clear that every character in this book has their own story, and we are only seeing them as their lives intersect with Paul-Edward's.

Paul-Edward and Mitchell form a life-long bond of brotherhood, a friendship that defines trust and loyalty in the deepest meanings of those words.

Along the way, Paul-Edward deals with fair-minded white people who treat him respectfully and give us readers faith that those who lived in this time period had reason to hope for a better future. Of course, Paul-Edward also deals with his share of mean and double-crossing white supremacists. All the while, he works earnestly and tirelessly and keeps his eyes on the prize, which is the land he intends to buy, so that he may finally have something of his own.

Fans of Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry may appreciate, as I did, seeing a good-hearted young Wade Jamison, who grows up to be an ally to the Logan family and the black community.

Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities #3) by Shannon Messenger

★★★½

*** Warning: This review contains spoilers! ***

The exciting titular event depicted in the cover illustration happens about halfway through the book. After that, I was sort of left wondering, "Okay... Now what?" Rest assured the last third of the book picks up quite a bit, with a number of satisyfing revelations!

Overall, I just didn't feel like this book was tight enough. There wasn't a defining climactic event, and the story didn't have a good flow. There was the assignment with Fitz, and then the adventure with Keefe, then one shocking plot twist, and then another. It was kind of just all over the place.

I was also bothered by a lack of character development between Sophie and her friends. Dex is the only friend who I feel has "earned" his place as "a good friend of Sophie's who wants to help her by going where she goes." Sophie and Fitz shared the trust exercises from their Telepathy classes, but that didn't feel like an authentic bond of friendship. Keefe is by far the most developed character on his own, but even though Sophie and Keefe share the Silveny bond, she never seems to warm up to him as a friend unless she's faced with his vulnerable side, which makes it seem like Keefe just likes to be around Sophie because exciting things happen when she's around. Sophie and Biana's friendship is the most baseless of all. They don't have much in common except playing base quest with Fitz and Keefe, a pretty convenient way for each girl to spend time with her crush (Fitz for Sophie, Keefe for Biana). It's like Biana just wants to join in because otherwise she'd be left out, and also she wants to be where Keefe is. I don't know if I'm being too harsh, but all I know is that when Hermione and Ron volunteered to leave school and run off with Harry to hunt horcruxes, it was pretty believable because of the strong friendship shared by all three. When Keefe, Fitz, and Biana all volunteer to run off with Sophie, I saw it as a plot device, not really genuine.

Still, the Council versus the Black Swan versus Neverseen and ogres makes for a pretty exciting set-up, and now that we know who some of the Neverseen players are, it'll be fun to see where the story goes next.

Her2: The Making of Herceptin, a Revolutionary Treatment for Breast Cancer by Robert Bazell

★★★★★

I first read about the dramatic story behind Herceptin in The Emperor of All Maladies, a sweeping biography of cancer that includes Herceptin as one of many major developments in cancer research. When I learned of a book that dives in deep and provides all the fascinating details of Herceptin's own biography, I jumped to read it.

This story has all the players you might expect, and more. There are academic researchers, oncologists, and biotechnology executives; insurance companies, government agencies, Hollywood philanthropists, and activists. There are missed opportunities, serendipitous encounters, and determined individuals with unrelenting perseverence. 

The author, Robert Bazell, interweaves the story of Herceptin with stories of women with breast cancer who helped make the drug available by participating in clinical trials or by advocating for compassionate access before it was FDA-approved. Bazell provides important facts about cancer and cancer research alongside candid accounts of the reality of cancer treatment and recurrence. There is poignancy and meaning in each woman's story. 

For me, this book is personal, so maybe my rating is inflated. I was diagnosed with a HER2-positive breast cancer and am currently receiving targeted therapy with Herceptin. I am keenly aware that if I had been diagnosed 25 years earlier, my prognosis would very likely have been much more grim. I am deeply indebted to every individual who believed that Herceptin would save lives, and who persisted despite obstacles and set-backs. I feel sincere gratitude towards each woman whose participation in a clinical trial helped bring the drug to market.

Finally, this book reaffirmed my belief that health care and pharmaceuticals should not be for-profit industries. I am horrified to think of how many potentially life-saving drugs aren't under development because corporate executives don't see a path to profit. 

Exile (Keeper of the Lost Cities #2) by Shannon Messenger

★★★

I still like the series, but I felt this book was lacking. I was a bit bored at the start, feeling like the story didn't pick up until chapter 8. I was annoyed at all the explicit recapping, but my daughter said if I had to wait a year in between reading books, I'd have appreciated it. The adults in this series seem to have a bigger role than I realized, because we didn't get to see any peers for Sophie until Dex appeared in chapter 15.

Similarities to Harry Potter continue, e.g., the mesmer talent is analogous to the imperius curse, and inflicting is like the cruciatus curse. Also, Silveny the flying horse-like alicorn was reminiscent of Buckbeak the flying half-horse hippogriff. But just as my son assured me, by the end of this book, the series veered quite a bit away from the wizarding world of Harry Potter. 

I was surprised at how dark and disturbing some of the scenes were, e.g., people consumed to death by flames, minds shattered to the point of insanity. I liked the encouraging message about not letting yourself get destroyed by guilt. And I thought it was weird how quickly elves turned to sedatives to calm down, instead of just trying to calm down naturally. 

Overall, the whole arc of the story just seemed kind of convoluted. The link between Sophie wanting to save Alden and her figuring some doodles in an old diary would be the answer seemed awfully tenuous. And sure, all the clues left by the Black Swan were intriguing and helped to build suspense, but why all the riddles? If they were able to contact Sophie directly via private messages in her locker, why not just give her clear instructions? 

Finally, I had to dock the rating a star because I really disliked the way the author reframed J.R.R. Tolkien. The Lord of the Rings was a seminal work of fantasy and literature, yet in Shannon Messenger's elven world, Tolkien was unoriginal and didn't understand his own writing. Maybe she was trying to pay homage to Tolkien's elves, but the execution was lacking and, at least to me, it felt derisive.

Keeper of the Lost Cities (Keeper of the Lost Cities #1) by Shannon Messenger

★★★★½

Super derivative and frequently reminded me of Harry Potter. Sophie, like Harry, was a pre-teen who had only ever known a human existence when suddenly she finds out she is something else. They were both whisked away to a special school in a secret world hidden from humans. They feel inadequate for not understanding the ways of "their people", yet they are both uniquely more advanced than their peers in special ways. Light leaping is analogous to apparating and disapparating, and Keefe's dad reminded me a lot of Lucius Malfoy.

All that said, even if this work is derivative, my son says it gets more original in future books, and my daughter points out that at least it's well-executed. I'll have to keep reading to see if I agree with my son, but I can say I do agree with my daughter. Characters are engaging, the plot is intriguing. What exactly is the big secret of Sophie's existence?! Sophie's crush is a little eye-rolling, but it's all age-appropriate. I also really like that Sophie seems to have a good head on her shoulders. Most of the time, she properly turns to adults in times of crisis, and when she doesn't, the repurcusions are swift.

I'm giving the book short of 5 stars because it kind of irks me the way Marella and Jensi were just dropped. They were the first to reach out to Sophie in school, not knowing anything about her, and I think they deserved more consideration than they got! At one point, Sophie has a falling out with some people and laments that she "had no friends". But what about Marella and Jensi!? Apparently they are chopped liver.

Dr. Susan Love's Breast Book (6th Edition) by Susan M. Love

★★★★½

The first thing that struck me was the very first line of the Acknowledgments, in which Dr. Susan Love says that she revises this book every 5 years. From my own limited research, it's clear that the treatment of breast cancer has had major developments over the last few decades, and it's good to know this book stays abreast (haha) of new advancements. 

The second thing that struck me was the very first line of the Introduction, in which Dr. Love notes that this sixth edition, published in 2015, will probably be the last revision. I hope this is not really the case, because this book is such a thorough, accessible, go-to reference for breast cancer. It would be a shame if future women don't have an up-to-date resource like this one! I hope that maybe someone else from the Dr. Susan Love Research Foundation will take over the book and ensure it's continued relevancy. (Maybe they figure everything should just be online these days...)

Dr. Love's writing style is colloquial, her descriptions and explanations are clear and easy to understand. A quote on the front cover touts this book as "the bible for women with breast cancer," and it really is. I think any woman who has been diagnosed with breast cancer should get their hands on this book as soon as possible and keep it close by for reference. 

This isn't a book that needs to be read cover to cover; chapter titles are self-explanatory, and there is a complete index, so you can look up terms and topics and questions as they come up. (In fact, there are sections towards the end titled "How Long Do I Have?" and "End-of-Life Planning: Making Your Wishes Known" that I really hope I don't ever have to read.)  

That said, this book isn't just for women who have already been diagnosed with breast cancer. Any woman who has started getting mammograms, or who has found a lump and is facing a possible diagnosis, should have this book, too. There are entire chapters on screening and diagnosis that I imagine would be very helpful if they are read even before being diagnosed, or while going through it.

In my personal experience, I wish I had this book for reference as soon as I felt a lump. My cousin gave me the book in the time between diagnosis and double mastectomy, but I admit I didn't read it right away, and that's on me. I should have read the sections on mastectomy and sentinel lymph node biopsy before my surgery. All the information is so straightforward and thorough; the book included everything that I had otherwise gathered from multiple web sites and online support groups, plus some. Moreover, my online research involved having to filter out random pieces of information that didn't apply to me, and it took a lot longer than if I had just read a few pages of this book instead.

I finally picked this book up about 3 weeks after my surgery, just before meeting with my medical oncologist. Once I saw how accessible the information was, I jumped ahead, searched the index, and read the pages about types of cancers and different kinds of treatment. Reading just these select pages helped me feel more prepared for my appointment. And as soon as my oncologist confirmed my treatment plan, including chemotherapy and hormone therapy, I went straight to relevant sections of the book.

I did notice that the book does not use some common terms, even when it does address the particular issue. For example, it mentions that after a mastectomy, "surrounding tissue under the arm may seem baggy and excessive and hang over your bra," (p. 475) but it doesn't use the term "dog ears", which is how the condition is referred to in online forums. It also describes "axillary web syndrome" (p. 348) as a side effect of lymph node surgery, but does not use the word "cording", and neither term is included in the index. As someone who happened to develop cording after surgery, an index reference to this topic would have been nice.

Additionally, not every drug is specifically mentioned. For example, in the section on gonadotropin-releasing hormone agonists, Zoladex (name brand for goserelin) is discussed, but not Lupron (name brand for leuprolide). Taxol (name brand for paclitaxel) is also not in the index. I understand that not every single drug can be covered, but as someone being prescribed these medicines, the omissions were noteworthy for me.

I do wonder if the book being published in 2015 has anything to do with the above two observations. Like maybe the terms "dog ears" and "cording" have only recently become more widely used? Or maybe Lupron and Taxol are less common these days? I don't know.

Because this book is more like a reference book, I have not read it in its entirety. I certainly plan to use it as needed moving forward.

The Cancer Journals: Special Edition by Audre Lorde

★★★★

The actual book is a very brief 79 pages. The special edition additionally includes 20 pages of photos and posthumous tributes to Audre Lorde, who died of liver cancer in 1992. I am reviewing only the content written by Audre Lorde; I admit I did not read all the tributes that followed.

Audre Lorde was a black lesbian feminist poet. Her writing is at times poetic or edgy. It's important to keep in mind that this book was written in 1978, and the landscape of breast cancer detection, treatment, and prognosis has changed significantly since then; genetics as a factor in the occurrence of breast cancer was not yet known at the time. She advocated for going flat after a mastectomy, and was against wearing prostheses. She was sometimes skeptical of the medical establishment, and she supported exploring alternative therapies.

The book started out non-linearly. On page 26, Audre Lorde began to tell her story narratively.

One speech reprinted in this book was given after Audre Lorde had surgery for what ultimately turned out to be a benign growth, before she was diagnosed with breast cancer and had to undergo a mastectomy. Her speaking at this point in time is powerful. Many women experience the fear of breast cancer, and are thankfully spared. Their experiences and voices are valid in conversations about breast cancer. For every woman with breast cancer, the path began with that fear of suddenly becoming "forcibly and essentially aware of [your own] mortality" (p. 17), and a hope to be spared.

I don't think I would automatically recommend this book for anyone diagnosed with breast cancer and undergoing a mastectomy, but it's certainly worth a read if you have been diagnosed and are working through emotions, or are considering going flat. Reconstruction was still a relatively new post-mastectomy procedure back in 1978, but it's no surprise (given her feelings on prostheses) that she referred to it as an "atrocity". (p. 70) If you've already decided to go flat, this book can be a strong affirmation of your decision.

This book was a very personal read for me, so the rest of this space I will use to identify quotes that were especially meaningful to me, and why.

"These selected journal entries... exemplify the process of integrating this crisis [of breast cancer and mastectomy] into my life." (p. 8)

Having cancer is not a "phase". It's not something you "get over" or "put behind you". Being diagnosed with breast cancer and undergoing a mastectomy changes you forever. The non-existence of your breasts is a constant, daily reminder. There's always a chance the cancer will return, and you live with that "background noise of fear" (p. 12) and anxiety for the rest of your life.

"[W]hat is most important to me must be spoken...the speaking profits me, beyond any other effect." (p. 17)

Well, I'm glad Audre Lorde spoke, because her speaking profited me, too. As a woman with breast cancer recovering from a double mastectomy without reconstruction and having a whole lot to process, reading this book assured me that I am not alone. So much of what she wrote - about fear, mortality, self-identity, pain (both physical and emotional), even the feeling of support when showered with the care and concern of others - resonated with me personally, even as the details of her experiences differed from mine.

"Once I accept the existence of dying, as a life process, who can ever have power over me again?" (p. 24)

Variations of this sentiment were repeated a few times throughout the book. Being diagnosed with cancer means being forced to face your mortality. It's just a really powerful idea that once you face the very real possibility of death, everything else is put into perspective.

"I am a post-mastectomy woman who believes our feelings need voice in order to be recognized, respected, and of use." (p. 7)

"I am also writing to...[set] down my artifacts, not only for later scrutiny, but also to be free of them. I do not wish to be free from their effect... but free from having to carry them around in a reserve part of my brain." (p. 54)

These words echoed my own feelings of why I decided to keep a blog about my breast cancer experience. The "of use" part is why I made my blog public; I hope my experiences can help support and reassure another woman in her time of uncertainty, anxiety, and fear.

"[The] socially sanctioned prosthesis is merely another way of keeping women with breast cancer silent and separate from each other." (p. 14)

"Prosthesis offers the empty comfort of 'Nobody will know the difference.' But it is that very difference which I wish to affirm, because I have lived it, and survived it, and wish to share that strength with other women... [W]omen with mastectomies must become visible to each other." (p. 62)

1 in 8 women will eventually be diagnosed with breast cancer, but you wouldn't know that by looking around you. There is a whole sisterhood of potential support for one another, but we don't know who has borne the burden of breast cancer because we try to hide the evidence of having been through it. I get it. Social norms are hard to go against. Women are "supposed" to have breasts. But what if we could recognize our warrior sisters on sight? I think it would be empowering. Of course it's a very personal decision whether or not to get reconstruction, and if not, then whether or not to wear prostheses. I have chosen no reconstruction, and I'm not sure yet where I'll end up regarding prostheses, but certainly this book has inspired me to more boldly embrace being flat, and has reassured me of the power and peace of not wearing prostheses.

I think it's worth noting that while Audre Lorde doesn't spend a lot of time reassuring women who do choose to wear prostheses, she does say that prostheses "can still serve a real function for the woman who is free enough to choose when and why she wears one or not." (p. 68) She was not completely against prostheses; what bothered her was how much immediately wearing a prosthesis was considered the normal, default thing to do, and how it was a way for women to reclaim their "old selves" before even allowing them the time and space and opportunity to get to know and love their new selves, sans breast.

No Other Gods: The Politics of the Ten Commandments by Ana Levy-Lyons

★★★½

Full disclosure: I went into this book self-identifying as a politically liberal Christian.

In this book, Ana Levy-Lyons shows us how the Ten Commandments support liberal Christianity. "Liberal Christianity" may seem like an oxymoron if your idea of Christianity is what is presented by the conservative, right-wing Christians who seem to dominate the American religious landscape. But here, Levy-Lyons even goes so far as to call out the religious right for the ways in which their interpretation of Christianity actually breaks some of the Ten Commandments.

Interestingly, I associated the Ten Commandments so strongly with Christianity that I was a bit surprised when I realized the author is Jewish. But of course, the first five books of the Old Testament are the Torah, so the Ten Commandments are as much a part of Judaism as they are a part of Christianity.  

Rather than write off the Ten Commandments as irredeemably outdated, oppressive, and a symbol of tribalism, the author encourages us to reclaim these ancient teachings within the context of modern times. She is clear that she is not trying to define what the Ten Commandments "actually" mean; instead, she examines the original text of each commandment and extends the interpretation beyond the literal. What do the Ten Commandments offer us, spiritually and politically, in the 21st century? Levy-Lyons proposes that keeping the Ten Commandments is to "reclaim...the concept of God...as a force for justice and stewardship of the earth." (p. 96) She leads us to think beyond our individual selves to see how the Ten Commandments can shape our thinking in regards to broader issues such as protecting the environment and supporting a living minimum wage.

The chapter on the Fourth Commandment about observing the Sabbath especially resonated with me. The author interprets this Commandment as urging us to take time to slow down and take care of ourselves on a regular basis, engaging in "joyful, life-affirming, relationship-building, or spiritually deepening deployments of our time." (p. 112) She notes the irony in how, in our over-scheduled world of commitments and busy-ness, "it takes discipline...to enter into an undisciplined, formless time." (p. 119)

The chapter on the Sixth Commandment that forbids killing was also especially eye-opening for me. (The commandment is not as straightforward as one might expect.)

I admit, the writing in this book didn't grab me at first. What finally made the book click for me was imagining the words being spoken as in a sermon. The whole book is like a really great, thought-provoking sermon series. 

I do wish the book, as a work of non-fiction, had references. The author makes a lot of statements that we are expected to accept at face value, without being given a source. Statements like, "Over one billion people in the world lack access to safe drinking water," (p. 166) and, "Today in the United States the average CEO makes a salary several hundred times that of the average worker." (p. 202)  I know these statements are in the ballpark of being true (I don't know exact figures) because I keep up with the news and current events. But I can see someone else doubting those kinds of statements, wondering if maybe she's exaggerating. 

They Called Us Enemy by George Takei

★★★★

Disclaimer: I'm a huge George Takei fan, so I was probably predisposed to like this book.

I was pleased to find that even though I had read George Takei's autobiography To The Stars, seen his Broadway musical Allegiance, followed him on Facebook, read countless articles by and about him, and watched who knows how many interviews on video - still this book had details that were new to me.

The book centers on George Takei's experiences growing up in an internment camp during World War II, but it does briefly touch upon his acting and activism at the end of the book. Published just this year, the graphic novel includes a panel that draws a clear parallel to the current border crisis.

Mostly this book is an excellent way to educate new audiences about a part of American history that is still largely unknown. Telling this personalized history through illustrations and from the perspective of childhood humanizes the events. The remembrances of happy moments shed surprising warmth on an otherwise dark and painful time. Through the agonizing decisions faced by George Takei's parents, we see the injustices perpetrated by our government on our own citizens, and we see how time and time again the Japanese-Americans were in "lose-lose" positions, yet they persevered with as much dignity and resolve as they could muster.

Ultimately, I rated this book short of 5 stars because I found the storytelling choppy. The narrative jumped unexpectedly from George Takei's childhood to a TEDx talk in 2014 back to childhood flashbacks then forward to a Day of Remembrance event in 2017, etc. Even scenes that followed chronologically were sometimes difficult for me to separate as new events taking place on a new day or in a new setting. I admit that I usually do not read graphic novels, though, so I am not the target audience, and maybe I'm just not accustomed to graphic novel storytelling.

Anyway. I hope this book finds its way into many school libraries and classrooms.

Part Asian, 100% Hapa by Kip Fulbeck

★★★★★

I LOOOOOVE that this book exists.

My children are Hapa, and I want them to feel like they belong, that they have "their people", their tribe. We are lucky to live in an area with plenty of other part-Asian kids, but seeing a world of Hapas outside our own community, of all ages and ethnicities, is even more empowering.

Each 2-page spread features a photo of a person, their self-identified ethnicities (to demystify their race so you can't be distracted by the mystery), and their own handwritten responses to the age-old question faced by anyone who is not white: "What are you?"

The answers are amazing. They are thoughtful and irreverent, earnest and frivolous. The wide range of responses just can't be summarized. Every page is worth reading, every story deserves to be heard.

This book reminded me of a Facebook post by The Love Life Of An Asian Guy. Only now do I realize that the post was inspired by one of the photos in this book! These are the words of LLAG:

Dear EVERYONE,

Stop invalidating folks who are multiracial. There are (at least) three different ways to identity as a multiracial POC:

1.) Who you are based on DNA percentages ("I'm 50% Filipino and 50% Black")
2.) Who you are based on your physical appearance ("I'm Filipino and Black but I look and experience life as a Black individual.")
3.) Who you are based on culture ("I'm Filipino and Black but I connect more with my Filipino heritage.")

We should let multiracial folks make that decision on their own instead of us trying to fit them into boxes that we prefer.

But, even better (IMO) is the belief that multiracial folks are 100% of everything. 100% Black. 100% Filipino. 100% them. We can still address colorism and privilege without striping them of their right to identify.

If they wanna self hate and neglect their POC side in favor of their whiteness, so be it. It's their loss.

The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer by Siddhartha Mukherjee

★★★★★

This book is impressively approachable. I found the author's writing exceptionally concise and engaging, though admittedly I got a bit muddled in trying to understand the DNA research towards the end.

It's a sweeping account chronicling everything related to cancer from causes and prevention to detection and treatment, from laboratory scientists making discoveries to physician researchers running clinical trials to the individual patients facing down cancer with bravery and dignity.

As the author lays out the history of cancer, there are incredible stories of pathologists and chemists and physician-scientists whose individual contributions came together over many decades to eventually result in the discovery of a new cancer or a new chemical to treat cancer. It was nothing short of fascinating to follow the history of chemotherapy through textile dyes and mustard gas. Ideas changed and developed and were tied back to concepts first proposed centuries earlier.

Much of the history of cancer research has taken place in Boston, and growing up in this area, it was particularly enlightening for me to learn about the stories behind well-known institutions and individuals like the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, the Jimmy Fund, and Vannevar Bush. (As a student at MIT, I walked by a room named for him almost every day, and attended events in the room, but never had any idea who he was.) I even learned that a nearby town, Framingham, is the site of a massive epidemiological study that has led to a number of medical findings.

Remarkably - and this is altogether beside the point of the book - I could not help but take note, especially in today's political climate, how a great many of the researchers in the U.S. who made strides in the fight against cancer were immigrants or from immigrant families. I also saw parallels between the tobacco industry's refusal to acknowledge the dangers of cigarette smoking and the present-day gun industry's refusal to acknowledge the dangers of gun violence. If Big Tobacco, "an industry once thought virtually impregnable," (p. 267) could eventually be well-regulated, then maybe there is hope that the gun industry could one day be well-regulated, too.

On a personal note, this book was a gift to my husband (a teacher) from a student who wanted to share the book that had an outsized impact on him, inspiring him to want to become a doctor. The book sat on our shelf for years, and I didn't pick it up until I was diagnosed with breast cancer myself. Suddenly, I felt drawn to the book, and reading it felt like a kind of opposition research. While the book discusses many different cancers from leukemia to breast cancer to prostate cancer, a good portion of the history of cancer centers on breast cancer. I repeatedly felt that much of the information was directly relevant to me. I certainly now have a better understanding of how surgery, radiation, chemotherapy, and hormone therapy are all tools in an oncologist's toolbox, but figuring out which tool will work, and how exactly to use it, is highly dependent on the specific stage and type of cancer being treated.

What is clear from this book is that I am thankful for - indeed I feel deeply indebted to - every person ever drawn to study, treat, and attempt to cure cancer, every patient whose diagnosis, illness, treatment, and death helped to further the understanding of cancer and push the community towards a cure. Poignancy abounds in the history of cancer. Scientists who discovered the healing properties of radiation, only to succumb themselves to radiation-induced cancer. Patients who made up the statistics that drove the research towards a cure, but who were all individual persons with families and interests and full lives they weren't ready to leave.

It's been a very long, arduous, terrifying fight. The descriptions of the earliest mastectomies are horrifying, and I feel immensely grateful for being lucky enough to be diagnosed in 2019, when anesthesia, sterilization, and pain killers are customary parts of the procedure. Particularly astonishing to me was the realization that much of my treatment as a cancer patient is heavily reliant on discoveries and advances in cancer medicine that took place relatively recently, over the course of my own lifetime.

I would not go so far as to recommend this book to cancer patients. I might be a weirdo in the extent to which I am curious about what I am up against. But it's definitely a book worth reading for anyone who wants to know more about cancer, for whatever reason.

Classroom Voices on Education and Race: Students Speak from Inside the Belly of the Beast by Daniel Frio

★★★★

I picked up this book because I have close ties to Wayland High School, the school featured in this book. I believe many of the issues Mr. Frio describes in the book have continued and remain unaddressed.

The first two chapters serve to provide a background of Mr. Frio's teaching experience. Starting in the third chapter, class and race relations at Wayland High School are discussed in depth. Mr. Frio compiled student quotes and journal entries from over 30 years of teaching at WHS, but many of the student voices he shared very well could have been attributed to current students.

Especially insightful are his observations about the METCO (Metropolitan Council for Educational Opportunity) program, the Boston-based voluntary school desegregation busing program. Interestingly, the book talks at length about the "accommodations" black and Latino students in the METCO program have to make in order to fit in with Wayland's predominantly white student body, but the phrase "code switching" is never used. Presumably this book was written just before the term became prevalent.

I was pleased to see a chapter dedicated to Asian Americans. Too often, conversations about race are limited to black vs. white perspectives, but in a town where 16% of the students are Asian, it's critical to include Asian Americans at the center of any discussions about race.

Notably, there is an entire chapter focused on white students' ignorance about racial matters, their sense of guilt, and how those conditions prevented them from openly discussing and exploring race. A white teacher able to model how to talk about race, and one who sees the importance of teaching white students how to be social justice allies, is invaluable.

The book helpfully offers up lessons learned as well as recommendations. I feel like Mr. Frio has provided a diagnosis with all the supporting evidence, and now it's up to the school - WHS in particular, but other schools as well - to move forward and actually address these issues by making systemic changes in curriculum, teacher training, and administrative policies.

In the end I gave this book 4 stars because something about the writing style tripped me up. I just found myself frequently re-reading a lot of sentences.

Below are a few quotes that I found particularly informative or instructive.

"When tough issues are left unaddressed by the adults, the students' education on these issues, by default, enters into a school's hidden curriculum, which produces significant learning outcomes... which generally contradict the formal curriculum." (pg. 1)

"Students who live in two worlds, particularly non-whites, need their primary identity affirmed as a foundation for academic confidence and success." (pg. 23)

"The grade and college competition, in conjunction with the social pressures to live a trendy lifestyle, tend to mimic the stresses of the adult world, a world that has increasingly encroached on kids before they are emotionally equipped to cope." (pg. 29)

"If the racial issues that continue to divide the United Sates are to be overcome they must be addressed early in life, and the public schools should welcome the challenge." (pg. 45)

"Although all students had been exposed to 'great black leaders,' their education had not explicitly provided them with whites who had also led the fight against racism. Nor could they generally identify such people in their immediate world. This significant gap in the formal curriculum, if left unaddressed, will reinforce the feeling among whites that the fight for racial equity is a non-white issue." (pg. 53)

"No real education would actually take place [after a racial incident] since each event would be attributed to individual aberrations, rather than the conspicuous signs of deeper, systemic problems." (pg. 78)

The Color of Success: Asian Americans and the Origins of the Model Minority by Ellen D. Wu

★★★½

I'm an Asian American. When I was in college (a couple decades ago), I didn't even know that Asian American Studies was a thing. If I had taken any classes in it, I imagine this is the kind of book I would have read for class (though this particular book, published in 2013, wasn't available back then).

While absolutely informative, I also found this book to be academic and dense. I'd give 4-plus stars for the content, but maybe 3-minus stars for readability, which averages out to something like 3.5 stars.

This book focuses on the Chinese and Japanese experiences, as those have been the most visible Asian ethnicities in U.S. history, and they are the populations around which the model minority emerged. Going into this book, I had a working knowledge of major pieces of Chinese and Japanese American history as separate and distinct events, but this book - for the first time I have encountered - studies Japanese internment alongside the Chinese Exclusion Act. During World War II, when the U.S. allied with China to fight Japan, Japanese Americans suffered from their assumed allegiance to their ethnic country of origin, while Chinese Americans benefited from the same assumption.

After WWII, integration became even more complicated as U.S.-Japan relations were strained and Communism took hold in China and threatened to spread throughout East Asia. Both Japanese and Chinese Americans loudly declared their support for American ideals, but at the same time, there was value on the international stage in promoting cultural plurality in America, to show that America truly was a place of equal opportunity, regardless of race.

Both groups were cast as "assimilating Others," capable of being culturally American despite clearly being racially distinct. Asian Americans were definitely not white, but also definitely not black, and the model minority was consciously created as a "simultaneously inclusive and exclusive reckoning" (p. 9) of Asian Americans as part of the national identity. Asian Americans themselves engaged in self-stereotyping, eager to "dislodge deeply embedded 'yellow peril' caricatures." (p. 6) It was a conscious effort to align themselves with white middle class Americans, and to separate themselves from African and Mexican and Filipino Americans (despite sharing common experiences of oppression), thereby upholding white supremacy in the process. Inevitably, the model minority became a wedge that divided Asian Americans from other minority groups seeking equal rights, particularly African Americans.

Personally, I would have liked to learn more about the model minority in the post-1960s era - the time in which I've lived and have first-hand experience - but this time period is only discussed briefly in the Epilogue, which touches upon the "repudiation of the model minority and its assimilationists origins...[as well as how activists] deliberately inverted the trope of non-blackness and instead embraced affinities with" other racial minorities. (p. 247)

Track Roundup

Realistic fiction about black middle schoolers on an elite inner city track team. Each book focuses on a different character, and every character is dealing with their own unique issues.

• Ghost (#1) ★★★★
• Patina (#2) ★★★
• Sunny (#3) ★★★★★
• Lu (#4) ★★★★★

Lu (Track #4) by Jason Reynolds

★★★★★

Lu is a perfect conclusion to this series!

This book falls squarely in the "middle grade" range, as the drug addiction of tertiary characters play a central role in character and plot development. It's made clear that drug addiction is an illness that requires treatment, and that addiction causes pain and suffering not only to the person, but to their friends and family as well.

As an albino, Lu has experienced his fair share of bullying. Young readers who are teased for being different in some way can hopefully find a connection with Lu, who learns to view bullying in a new perspective that helps build his maturity and confidence.

Like Sunny, Lu cries. And other characters cry, too. Tears might not be flowing freely, but tears are wiped away, people sniffle. I think it's just so important for young readers, especially boys, to see that crying is a natural form of emotional expression, and it's not a sign of weakness.

I love the way this book handles bullies. One of my biggest pet peeves in children's books is when a bully is one-dimensional. Sure, the protagonist needs an antagonist, but more often than not, the bully is simply a thoroughly mean person used to drive the story. Realistically though, I'm guessing that not all bullies are sociopaths, maybe they are just regular people who have a whole lot going on in their own lives that they don't know how to process, and so they act out in an effort to have some semblance of control and power. Anyway, that's what we see in this book, and it's a powerful depiction of relationships and responsibilities and integrity.

As the finale of the series, the book does a great job tying in Ghost, Sunny, and Patty, so you can feel there is a kind of closure to all their stories.

Shortest Way Home: One Mayor's Challenge and a Model for America's Future by Pete Buttigieg

★★★★

This book is primarily an account of Pete Buttigieg's education and political experience. It is only partly a personal memoir, intertwined at parts with the story of South Bend, IN.

After getting an education that was both elite and international - it really served to illustrate how privileged an experience an Ivy League education can be - it's heartwarming that he returned to his hometown and eventually became mayor. His decision to serve in the military is admirable, a reflection of his integrity, principles, and sense of duty.

I would definitely describe Mayor Pete as an intellectual. In this book, he presents in detail how his political identity was forged through his understanding of major events such as America's response to 9/11 and the auto industry bailout. His political philosophy is that "the practice of politics is about taking steps that support people in daily life - or tearing down obstacles that get in their way." (p. 88) He clearly prides himself in how much he has been able to revitalize South Bend, relying heavily on data-driven processes. Much of the book is about the methods and philosophies he developed and implemented while serving as mayor. He also includes some lessons learned.

Reading this book, I got to know Mayor Pete as a public figure and politician, but I didn't really get a feel for "what makes him tick" as a person, beyond the image of him being well-educated and worldly. I definitely better understand where he wants to take this country, but not exactly where he's coming from. We get only a brief glimpse of his childhood up through high school, and he reveals little about his family or upbringing. What exactly set him apart as a teenager that got him into Harvard? He went to a Catholic high school, but was he raised to be religious?

At one point, he describes the Midwest as a place "whose role in shaping me had become more obvious the farther away I'd move." (p. 60) The book title itself refers to how his extensive learning and travel was all a necessary path to bring him home to do meaningful work in South Bend. But HOW?! He recounts going to school at Harvard and in England, living abroad in Tunisia, but doesn't describe anything personal or emotional like feeling out of place or learning more about himself or feeling an unbroken connection back to South Bend.

I do follow the news, and it was satisfying when the book shed more light on things I had already heard about Buttigieg. For example, I knew that he once played piano with the South Bend Symphony Orchestra, and there is a full chapter recounting that experience, which is pretty endearing.

Other times, I was disappointed when the book did not delve deeper into things I had already heard. For example, he's made some powerful statements about religion and being gay, and I had hoped the book would provide even more insight on articles such as this.

It sounds like he grappled significantly with his sexual orientiation, but the book does not go into his private struggles. In a very sweet chapter, he is actually at his most personal and seemingly vulnerable when writing about his husband Chasten. But he seems to make a point to not make the fight for LGBTQ rights personal. In the context of dealing with then-governor of Indiana Mike Pence, he mostly framed the discussion as an economic policy issue. He does recount the process by which he decided to come out, during his mayoral re-election campaign, but he focuses on the political implications. He specifically emphasizes his hope that one day sexual orientation will be a non-issue.

Overall, an engaging political memoir with a lot of information about politics at the local level.

Song of the Trees (Logans #3) by Mildred D. Taylor

★★★

After reading Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry, book 4 in the series about the Logan family, I figured it'd be worth reading the rest of the series as well.

I have to admit, I did not realize this book is essentially a short story. I'm actually glad I read it after reading Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry, because that meant I went into this book already knowing who the characters were. Without that pre-existing connection, I'm not sure I would have felt as invested in this story.

Song of the Trees tells of the episode, referenced in Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry, in which a white man takes advantage of Papa not being home to strong-arm Big Ma into allowing him to cut down trees on her land. The book conveys a deep appreciation for nature while reaffirming David Logan's dignity in the face of overt racism.

It Ain't So Awful, Falafel by Firoozeh Dumas

★★★★★

A downright funny book about a girl in middle school who moves to Newport Beach, CA from Iran by way of Compton. Her name is Zomorod, but in an effort to fit in better, she decides to go by Cindy. This book provides a unique glimpse into a very specific time in U.S. history: the late 1970s during the Iran hostage crisis.

That description probably makes this book sound random, but it's really a tight story. Through Cindy and her family, we get a look at a special kind of immigrant experience, one in which Cindy is expected to live a normal American life while knowing that her friends, her family, and the place she considers "home" are suffering indescribable injustices, fear, and turmoil. It's rare in a children's book, but Cindy's family is just not a typical, happy family. They are sad, and they become depressed. In the end, though, because it is a children's book after all, thanks to the kindness of friends and neighbors, everything turns out fine.

Now that description probably makes this book sound heavy and serious, but it's really such a fun read! Cindy is determined to make friends and have all-American experiences, despite her parents' lack of desire to assimilate themselves. She's smart and plucky and well-adjusted, and her energy is practically contagious.

This book offers so many relatable child-of-immigrant experiences, including having a name no one can pronounce, being your parents' translator, and having a family that doesn't openly communicate like the American families on TV. The details of life in the late 1970s might be new to young readers, but it was perfectly nostalgic for me, what with the passing mentions of Sears, cassettes, and pop culture references from my childhood.

Being an immigrant from Iran was bad enough because Cindy was frequently treated as an "other", but when the Iran hostage crisis happens, her life is upended. Now suddenly she is associated with the most hated country in America, and she is forced to face xenophobia head-on.

I was born in the 1970s, but growing up I knew nothing about Iran beyond hearing about "the Iran hostages" and associating Iran with Ayatollah Khomeini. This book provided an eye-opening lesson in U.S. history at a level appropriate for young readers. Most kids born and raised in America know about freedom of speech, but I can imagine some lines in this book could make a real impression on those who might not realize that not all countries enjoy such freedoms.

One small heads-up for parents who may want to know: There is a passing mention of "venereal disease" in the context of a classroom prank.

An excellent "window" book for today's middle grade readers, both entertaining and educational!

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

★★★★★

*** Warning: This review contains spoilers!! ***

I don't care what anyone says, I refuse to believe that the little prince dies. I see him as the manifestation of the pilot's childhood innocence, and while many of us may lose touch with our inner child as we grow up, I don't think we ever lose that sense of youth completely. Our inner child may get buried deep inside us, maybe we never again consciously recognize them, but I think they live on inside us; I definitely do not think they die.

In fact, I see all the planets and their inhabitants as pieces of our adult selves, some being more prominent in one's character than others. None of them ever die, the potential for each personality trait exists within us, it's just a matter of which ones manifest in us the most, and to what extent.

And yes, I know snakes can represent loss of innocence, or evil, in books... And the little prince makes clear statements to and about the yellow snake regarding the snake's poison... But the pilot himself believes the little prince did go back to his planet, and that's good enough for me!

Anyway, one of the messages of the book is, "What is most important is invisible." So really, what's most important is that the spirit of the little prince lives on. It's not actually important to know for sure if the little prince physically "dies" on our earth or not, if he figuratively "dies" as part of his mode of transportation back home, or if he literally dies.

An Unlikely Journey: Waking Up from My American Dream by Julián Castro

★★★★★

An inspiring read that shows just how much America has to gain by welcoming immigrants and investing in all people equally. As a memoir, this book is very approachable. Only a small bit of policy is mentioned towards the end, when Castro discusses his political offices.

Julián Castro describes the American dream not as a sprint, or even a marathon, but a relay in which each generation passes along what they have achieved in the hopes that the next generation might have even better and more accessible opportunities for success. He tells his own family history, an example of this relay for the American dream.

Castro is a Mexican-American who grew up in an underprivileged part of San Antonio, TX in a single-parent, multi-generational household. He and his identical twin brother Joaquin shared a special bond, and together they were raised by a passionately politically active mother who taught them how to help improve their community by taking action. There's always some debate about nature versus nurture, but it's fascinating that Julián went on to become a San Antonio city councilman, then mayor, then President Obama's Secretary of Housing and Urban Development, while Joaquin became a state representative in Texas, and then a congressman in the U.S. House of Representatives.

Through his life story, it's clear how Castro developed his sense of service and giving back. He believes that all people have ability and ambition, and it is mostly a lack of opportunity that holds back those of modest means. As someone who received critical mentoring along the way, he believes in both acknowledging the efforts of those who paved the path before him, and also reaching back and helping those who will follow behind him. His dedication to his hometown of San Antonio is admirable.

Betty Before X by Ilyasah Shabazz and Renée Watson

★★★★★

A wonderful middle grade book that exposes young readers to civil rights activism in the 1940s from a tween's point of view.

There's so much I love about this book. Mostly, I love the idea of showing young readers that every person who has ever made a difference in this world - every musician, athlete, activist, or scientist - was once a child, just like the rest of us. Each child has so much potential!

The book has a Biblical theme of "reaping what you sow", and as Betty tends to her "planted seeds" in relationships and activism, she learns that both require patience, care, and attention before she can "reap" any rewards. But Betty herself is also a seed, and through the love and guidance of those around her, she matures into a strong, thoughtful, and compassionate leader.

I like that the book touches upon race-related realities of growing up black, like how Betty and her friends rely on Ebony magazine for hairstyle ideas, and how dark-skinned Betty notices that even in Ebony, lighter skin is held up as desirable.

There's also some good modeling of respectful dialogue between Mr. Malloy and Deacon Boyd, who disagree in how they believe Negroes should go about trying to achieve equality. In the same way, Betty shows us that even though she and Phyllis have similar disagreements, they can still be friends.

There are a lot of positive messages woven into the story. Betty learns to overcome hardships by finding the good and praising it, and by counting her blessings. She also develops a strong sense of doing by following the Biblical passage that says "faith without works is dead." (James 2:26)

Young readers will get a sense of how life was different in the 1940s. The word "Negro" is used. Betty listens to records with her best friend Suesetta, enjoys learning to sew, and the local activist organization is called the Housewives' League. Only the boys in her family go sledding. Getting a whipping is nothing to call the police about, though it is still serious enough to justify a change in custody. And, of course, Betty's experiences while shopping illustrate the injustice, cruelty, and dehumanization of the overt racism of the time period.

Parents should know that this book does mention Leon Mosley, a 15-year-old black boy who was shot in the back and killed by police officers in 1948. Even if readers are aware of the current Black Lives Matter movement, perhaps they might be surprised to learn that policy brutality is not new, and the events currently being protested are just the same as events that were protested 70 years ago.

The back of the book includes several interesting sections that help shed light on how much of the book was fact, and how much was fiction.

One final thing to note: Despite the reference to Malcolm X in the title, the book doesn't actually talk about Malcolm X at all. The title might be confusing for some young readers who aren't familiar with Malcolm X. The extent of his mentions are basically limited to the dust jacket's front inside flap, which says, "Before Betty Shabazz met Malcolm X..." and the Author's Note at the back of the book, which says, "Dr. Betty Shabazz... is known to many as the wife of El Hajj Malik El Shabazz (Malcolm X)." This book is 100% about Betty Shabazz and does not in any way try to explain who Malcolm X was, and it's just fine with me if maybe a child reads it and one day later learns who Malcolm X is and thinks, "Oh, he's the guy who married Betty Shabazz"!

Repentance by Andrew Lam

★★★★

Disclosure: I know the author, Andrew Lam, and I read an early draft. I received an advance copy of the book.

Daniel is a Japanese-American surgeon whose marriage is on shaky ground. During World War II, his mother was incarcerated in the Manzanar Japanese internment camp while his father served in the all Japanese-American 442nd Regimental Combat Team. Daniel is estranged from his father, but is forced to come to terms with their relationship when he flies out to visit his parents in response to a medical emergency. Chapters alternate between "present day" scenes in the late 1990s and flashbacks to WWII-era events. The book offers both action-filled war sequences and tender moments.

I especially appreciate that this book brings attention to parts of Asian-American history - Japanese internment and the 442nd - that most people don't even know about. Andrew Lam does justice to their legacies, effectively conveying the unique position occupied by Japanese-American soldiers in the U.S. military and the extent of their bravery, as well as the injustice and sufferings of the Japanese-Americans detained in concentration camps.

While the events that unfold are suspenseful and absorbing, ultimately they serve to depict the human condition through the characters of Daniel and his father. Like each of us, they are flawed. We are presented with a poignant story of expectations and resentment, honor and loss, repentance and atonement.

While I thoroughly enjoyed the twist and turns of the storytelling, I have to admit, I'm a real stickler about representation and accuracy. On page 13, Daniel's half-white, half-Asian son is unfortunately described as "exotic", which perpetuates the idea that mixed race people are a kind of "other".

On page 47, there is this line: "There weren't any camps for German Americans or Italian Americans." I think this statement could be misleading... It's true there weren't any large-scale camps dedicated exclusively for Germans and Italians, and Germans and Italians weren't rounded up en masse like the Japanese, but they were detained on an individual basis, sometimes alongside Japanese detainees. More than 11,000 people of German ancestry and about 3,000 people of Italian ancestry, including U.S. citizens, were incarcerated during World War II, though those numbers pale compared to the 120,000 people of Japanese ancestry who were imprisoned.

Anyway, overall, an entertaining story that I could easily imagine on a big screen.

Blended by Sharon M. Draper

★★★★★

*** Warning!! This review contains spoilers!! ***

I think this middle grade book is perfect for helping to stimulate much-needed age-appropriate discussions about race, identity, class, and divorce.

There's so much I appreciate about this book. Mostly, I like that it can serve as a "mirror" for so many children who more often than not get "windows". There aren't a lot of books about children with divorced parents who don't get along, but I'm sure there are plenty of kids who could relate to Isabella's frustrations as she alternates weeks between mom's house and dad's house. I can imagine kids feeling relieved and understood as they read about Isabella's mixed emotions, especially regarding things that other people simply expect her to be happy about.

Of course, Isabella has the added confusion of trying to make sense of her identity as the child of a white mother and a black father. Children's books about people of color are still few and far between, let alone books about biracial children. In this book, biracial children can relate to Isabella's confusion as she comes to terms with her racial identity, including her experiences that are uniquely tied to being mixed race. All children of color might be able to relate to the incidences involving the way other people treat her based on her perceived race.

Going even farther, Isabella's two households are separated not only by race, but also by class. Her father is a white collar professional who has a large and formal home. Her mother is a blue collar worker who has a modest and laid back home. Class differences are rarely addressed in children's books, but surely children notice when their friends have much fancier, or much more modest, houses and lifestyles.

On top of all that, this book does a huge service by modeling productive race discussions in classrooms, among friends, and between parents and children. Isabella's white friend Heather even serves as a positive example of allyship.

I've read some other people's reviews already, and I sort of feel like I want to address some of the most common complaints. Many people dislike that there were "too many" issues, but I strongly disagree. This is Isabella's life, complicated and messy, just as many children's lives are in real life. I appreciate that this book reflects that reality.

Some people thought the narrative voice of 11-year-old Isabella didn't sound genuine, or they got annoyed with her constant references to slime and brand names. Obviously this is a matter of opinion, but I really found Isabella's dialogue and perspectives to be authentic. I could easily imagine the printed words being spoken to me by a 6th grader.

Another common complaint is that the race-related events just weren't believable, or were treated too heavy-handedly. Personally, I was constantly making connections to real-life events, and I think they are worth exploring. When Isabella's black friend Imani finds a noose in her locker, I was reminded of the 10-year-old Muslim girl who received hate notes in her school cubby. When Isabella and Imani are confronted by a security guard in a store, I was reminded of the three black teenage boys who were accused of shoplifting at a Nordstrom Rack. And when Isabella was shot during a police stop, I was reminded of both Tamir Rice, the 12-year-old black boy who was fatally shot by police officers who mistook a toy gun for a real gun, and also Stephon Clark, a black man who was fatally shot by police officers who mistook a cell phone for a gun.

All of that might sound kind of intense for a children's book, and I'm always quick to give a heads-up in my reviews to alert parents of any content that might call for concurrent or follow-up conversations. So definitely be aware that this book addresses police brutality and Black Lives Matter. Still, I think the material is presented in approachable, age-appropriate ways, and I think the topics covered are worth talking about with upper elementary and middle school kids.

Sunny (Track #3) by Jason Reynolds

★★★★★

This book is written as a series of diary entries by Sunny. I have to admit, I was a little put off by the format, because I enjoy reading dialogue. But Sunny's authentic middle school voice really won me over. I think Jason Reynolds does a fabulous job capturing Sunny's all-over-the-place kind of internal monologue.

What I liked most about this book is how Sunny really feels himself to be "weird", different from other kids. And he's not wrong. His mother died giving birth to him, so he carries around the guilt of feeling like he's his mother's murderer. He's been homeschooled his entire life, so up until he joined the track team, he had no friends his own age, and his whole life revolved around his home. I think it can be really valuable for young readers to see a character who truly feels a kind of loneliness, a person their age who doesn't fit the mold of a "typical" kid. Still, he is typical because when it comes down to it, all he wants is what everyone wants, the love of family, supportive friends, and to do what he enjoys.

Also valuable is for young readers to see how complex and full Sunny's "non-standard" life is. There're a lot of disparate ideas that all come together through Sunny. He empathizes with cancer patients at the hospital where his grandfather is a doctor. He makes connections with the groundbreaking movie Baraka. He and his father literally and figuratively piece together his mother's image, working together though their relationship is cold and strained. There's even a message about forgiveness and loyalty, relationships and new beginnings, as Sunny learns the true story behind how and why Aurelia came to be his homeschool teacher. (Heads up for parents who want to know these things: There's reference to drug addiction, but it's clear that drugs are bad, and people who suffer from drug addiction can recover and thrive.)

I love that in this book, there is no stigma in crying. Sunny cries, Aurelia cries, his father cries. Everyone cries, and it's fine, it's just what people do.

Also, as a former shot putter, I appreciate that this book brings in the "field" component of "track and field"!

Front Desk by Kelly Yang

★★★

I love that this book's first-person narrative voice is that of a child immigrant. There are very few books that I have found with this perspective, and I think it's important for immigrant children to have such books as "mirrors", and for American-born children to have them as "windows".

I also really appreciate that this book addresses racism head-on. I think race and racism should be openly discussed among children of all ages, and this book goes a long way in helping to make these topics accessible.

That said... I was troubled by just one phrase that had an outsized impact on me. Mr. Yao, the awful motel owner who exploits the Tang family, spoke "Taiwanese-accented Mandarin". The main character Mia and her family are loving, hardworking immigrants from China, while the mean, unfair boss is an immigrant from Taiwan. Most readers would probably gloss over that distinction, but Taiwanese characters in children's books are so scarce that when I, a child of Taiwanese immigrants, read the word "Taiwanese", my heart leaped with excitement! "Omg, a Taiwanese character!" Unfortunately, that feeling quickly deteriorated as I realized, "Uhh... The one Taiwanese character... is the irredeemably ignorant, cold-hearted, racist villain?" I just don't think we have enough narrative plenitude yet that would allow me to overlook such a one-sided negative portrayal of Taiwanese people, particularly because there was no Taiwanese counter-example to Mr. Yao. Maybe I would have been less bothered if, for example, Mrs. Yao had been kind and reasonable in a way that could have balanced out Mr. Yao's evilness. Also, many readers might not know that there is a kind of tension between mainland Chinese people and Taiwanese people, on account of differences in culture, history, and politics. I don't see any point in further driving in that wedge, especially with young readers.

Growing up with immigrant parents, I know that the sacrifice, discrimination, assumptions, and stereotypes faced by immigrants are real. The author deftly portrays these struggles through Mia's battle with the model minority myth, her embarrassment over her un-stylish clothing, and Mia's mother's feelings of inadequacy regarding her poor English. But the added difficulties faced by undocumented immigrants is a whole other harrowing level, and I don't think it helps to conflate the two experiences. The picture painted of immigrants in this book - Mia's parents seemingly being paid under the table, other immigrants fleeing from loan sharks, abusive employers with illegal practices, and immigration raids - point to experiences more typical of undocumented immigrants, yet they are never referred to as "undocumented". I applaud the author for tackling such an important topic, and I wish the characters were explicitly identified as undocumented. I think the distinction is important, and when made in a children's book, could really help young readers to understand that "the illegals" they hear being vilified in the news are people like their classmates and neighbors, regular people just like them. Also, identifying characters as undocumented would help explain why Mia's Mexican friend Lupe doesn't go back to Mexico to visit her family (an undocumented immigrant who leaves the country risks not being able to return), and why Mia's parents, at the end of the book, didn't even consider going to a bank for a loan. (It's not impossible for undocumented immigrants to get a loan, but being undocumented is certainly a negative factor.)

Anyway, moving beyond immigrant-related concerns... I found Mia to be easily likable. She was driven, resourceful, and well-meaning, and she had been through so much that even when she engaged in morally questionable behavior towards the end of the book, I could understand why she did it. I appreciated, too, that Jason was a complex character who developed as we got to know him.

At first I thought the cover illustration was misleading; it makes you think that the book is going to be a light-hearted account of Mia's antics as she works the front desk of the motel. It starts to feel inaccurate when you start reading about heavy ideas such as loan sharks, scary drunks, and police officers racially profiling and mistreating black people. But then, as the book progresses, there's a lot of over-the-top problem-solving that can only fly in a children's book. The ending especially was in-the-clouds level over-the-top, it actually seemed jarring and out of place when the rest of the book seemed to at least try to be realistic.

Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry (Logans #4) by Mildred D. Taylor

★★★★★

I don't think I've ever been blown away by a book as much as I was by Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry. If I could give this book 10 stars, I would. Putting this book down, I am consumed by the enormity of what this book offers to young readers, and I actually feel indignant that my formal education never included being asked to read this book. That's how important I think this book is.

In school, we learn the broad strokes of U.S. African-American history. We learn about slavery, the Underground Railroad, the Civil War, the Emancipation Proclamation, Reconstruction, Jim Crow segregation, and the civil rights movement. But much of the time, we learn about these topics in the abstract, and lose sight of the fact that actual people, individuals, generations of mothers and fathers and sons and daughters, actually lived through these events. White supremacy was sewn into the very fabric of American history for centuries. We can't possibly expect to make progress in racial justice now without looking at our past full in the face, acknowledging the truth, and directly addressing the institutional and systemic inequity that persist to this day. Reading this book is a good place to start.

Through the innocent eyes of 9-year-old Cassie, who is just beginning to venture outside her limited world of home and school, we see the horrors of post-slavery white supremacy in 1933. There is humiliation, indignity, and injustice. As parents, we want to protect our children and give them carefree childhoods, but the extent to which we can avoid exposing them to harsh realities is an indication of how privileged we truly are. Much of this book would be considered difficult content for young readers - frightening "night men" attacking in the night, people being burned alive - but then you are forced to realize that the events in the book are happening to young children. Though fiction, the life depicted in this novel was a reality for many people. For me, this book was so filled with tension and anxiety and suspense that it was chilling and heartbreaking to imagine living life with such a constant presence of fear.

This book is filled with well-crafted characters. Cassie is understandably angry and indignant as she witnesses acts of racism for the first time. Her 12-year-old brother Stacey is just mature enough to understand better, and it's painful to see him forced to step into the role of man at such a young age. Big Ma, in her years of experience, was resigned to the reality of racism, while Uncle Hammer had a fiery anger and needed to be held back from executing his own vigilante an-eye-for-an-eye sense of justice, which would surely put his own life in danger. Mama and Papa engaged in calm, calculated resistance as best they could, short of risking their own livelihoods and that of their neighbors. Sorrowfully, Mr. Morrison - more than any other character, to me - embodied the long-lasting effects of slavery, both literally and figuratively. And T.J. - poor T.J.! - who was just a boy, desperate for attention and acceptance when he fell victim to his own foolishness.

I appreciated, too, the characters of Jeremy and Mr. Jamison. They were brave and kind in their acts of allyship, and they - as much as the strength and dignity of the Logan family - give the reader hope that change is possible.

Holes by Louis Sachar

★★★★

Holes was on my to-read list for the longest time, but I never really felt compelled to read it based on the summary description. I don't think the blurbs do it justice; this book is just hard to describe. I finally picked it up because it was on the shelf at the library when I happened to be browsing.

So the book is fiction, set in a modern-day America, but events are too surreal for it to be considered realistic. It's quirky, kind of like dark humor, but appropriate for kids.

As much as I loved the book in the end, I'm giving it 4 stars because it took a while for me to get into it. In its defense, the story just takes a long time to set up. There's a lot of backstory to lay down as the narrative switches between Stanley's modern-day life and relevant events in the lives of his ancestors. You get the feeling that it's all related somehow, but I guess I got impatient, and kept wondering, "Where is this going?!" Rest assured, you'll be rewarded in the end, when everything comes together.

Also, I was a little put off by what I perceived as inconsistency in Mr. Pendanski's character. At first, I thought he was the one compassionate adult at Camp Green Lake, a genuine counselor who truly wanted to help the boys. It seemed completely out of character when he belittled Zero as stupid.

Mostly I like that this book is about a really good story, but I can see how someone might be especially taken with it if they come away with a good message, too. There's some racial awareness, a sense of destiny, an interconnectedness among family generations. There's a lesson about hanging in there, even when things go badly, and about being good to others, and building meaningful relationships.

A good read for kids looking for something just a little different.

Dumplin' by Julie Murphy

★★★★

I saw this movie on Netflix, and I enjoyed it so much - it was fun and light and thoroughly entertaining - that I figured it was worth reading the book it was based on. I ended up picturing every character just as they were cast in the movie - Ellen with brown hair despite her being blond in the book - though I had to continually make mental corrections for Hannah's teeth. I'm a little irked that an Asian character in the book was swapped out to be black for the movie, but it's not exactly surprising given the lack of Asian representation in movies in general.

Both the movie and the book have uplifting, feel-good, body-positive messages about loving yourself and not limiting yourself to what others expect from you. As usual, the movie was a simplified version of the book.

Like many other YA books, Getting the Guy was a theme. But here we had a twist: Willowdean basically got the guy at the beginning of the book, only she realized that having him wasn't the answer; in fact, he introduced a whole new set of problems. Turns out, before she could allow herself to love or be loved, she first had to love herself.

It's typical for a YA book to emphasize the "chemistry" in a relationship, but still I felt for Mitch. I think it's possible for a person to win over someone's heart over time, and maybe that could have been the case in an alternate universe.

I was kind of disappointed in the rather abrupt ending. I was hoping for more closure regarding Willowdean's relationships with her mother, Mitch, Ellen, and Bo. I wanted to see more progress towards mutual love and understanding between Willowdean and her mom, and I wanted to see how Willowdean and Mitch would interact in class after everything that happened. How would Willowdean handle being best friends with Ellen while also giving her space to grow, separate from her? And how would she feel finally stepping out at school as Bo's girlfriend?

I am relatively new to the YA genre, and I'm such a prude that any time there's swearing or sex - which is pretty common - it's something that stands out to me. This book actually balanced out the "mature content" with some bits about church, which I liked, but I think it's unusual in YA books, at least from what I've seen so far.

The Sun is Also a Star by Nicola Yoon

★★★★★

I saw a trailer for the upcoming movie, and though I'm not a huge fan of romance movies, I love Yara Shahidi, and I LOVE that the story is about a mixed race couple with an Asian male lead! As soon as I realized the movie was based on a book, I wanted to make sure I read the book before seeing the movie.

The Sun is Also a Star is a love story in one day à la Before Sunrise, but set in New York City against a backdrop of immigration. Natasha is Jamaican, an undocumented immigrant on the verge of being deported, and Daniel is Korean-American, with first-generation immigrant parents. Their lives and experiences as an immigrant and a child of immigrants very much shape who they are and how they think.

I am the first to roll my eyes at cliché love-at-first-sight romance, but the author meets the challenge head-on: Natasha herself is an intelligent, practical, science-oriented person who doesn't much believe in love, let alone "instalove". Daniel, on the other hand, is a romantic, a perfect foil for Natasha's skepticism. As they get to know each other, they banter back and forth about science and philosophy in a way that is thoughtful, not shallow or pretentious, which is how such conversations frequently come across. I like, too, how each person is confident in their own beliefs, yet willing to listen to the other person's ideas.

It's a quick read, with very short chapters that mostly alternate between Daniel and Natasha narrating the story from first-person perspectives. I particularly enjoyed the storytelling angle that involved additional chapters written with a third-person omniscient point of view. As the events between Daniel and Natasha unfolded, sometimes a brief chapter of explanation would pop up; for example, if the story touched upon Natasha's afro, we might get a quick history of black hair, to give more context to the situation. I know it sounds weird, or didactic, but really I found these interludes light and informative and relevant to the story.

Also, sometimes there were chapters thrown in to give a glimpse of the life of a person Natasha or Daniel interacted with, even if tangentially. These chapters I found kind of intriguing. First, they are used in a way to push the idea of fate. Are coincidences really just coincidences, or is the universe contriving to make something happen? Does fate ensure that if you have a missed opportunity at one point, then another opportunity will present itself later? Second, they seem to illustrate a commonly held idea that "everyone has a secret struggle that you don't know about." Personally, while I think that's true for a lot of people - maybe even most people - surely there must be some people out there who are content and not internally conflicted on any given day? But almost all the chapters about other people described complex personal situations that were overall sad and depressing, like, yes, every person does have something difficult to deal with. Taken together, it was like the book was saying that even though I wished for a happy ending for Natasha and Daniel, there really is no "happily ever after" because you don't know how things might change later.

I enjoyed this book a lot, and was surprised by its balance between being a romantic jaunt in young people's lives and its ability to put forth thoughtful ideas. I am a little suspicious that the movie will drop most of the secondary characters to focus on Natasha and Daniel, and I understand why they would do that, but I think a lot will be lost, and I expect I will end up thinking the book is better than the movie (as usual).