Asian American Dreams: The Emergence of an American People by Helen Zia

★★★★★

I can't believe this book was published in 2000, and I've only just now read it. As an Asian American, I wish I had read it when it first came out, so I could have benefited from its clarity 20 years earlier.   

This book chronicles when, where, and how Asian Americans have fit in within the tapestry of American history, politics, and culture. It's a must-read for all Americans, not just Asian Americans. Everyone should know how much Asian Americans have helped shape this country, and Asian Americans especially can benefit from Helen Zia's reassurance of our belonging here in America. This book made me feel seen.     

Asian American Dreams is part memoir, part survey of Asian American history, and part commentary on current events. Though events from the 1990s are no longer "current", the same types of events - for better or for worse - are still happening. The first-person narrative is very readable. 

Helen Zia's personal stories were particularly relatable for me as a Chinese American who grew up in a predominantly white suburb with immigrant parents. Though we are not the same age, I think I could have taken some of her stories and repeated them verbatim about myself, that's how similar our experiences were. Describing her childhood, she wrote, "[W]e stuck out like yellow streaks on a white-and-black canvas... The pressure on us was to fit in with the 'American' kids we looked so unlike, to conform and assimilate... But the joke was on us, because no matter how hard we might try to blend in with the scenery, our faces gave us away." (p. 7)

This book examines a number of events in modern America that have helped shape the Asian American consciousness: Vincent Chin's murder in Detroit; tensions between Korean shopkeepers and Black customers in NYC and LA; protests against Asian misrepresentation in entertainment; worker's rights for Filipino migrant workers in CA and Alaska and South Asian cab drivers in NYC; LGBTQ rights as civil rights worthy of support from all people, regardless of race. As a journalist, Helen Zia was personally involved in the activism surrounding a number of these movements; her deep dive into these issues included first-hand experience that provided invaluable details and insight.

It is meaningful and noteworthy that this book explores subjects that are commonly omitted in the Asian American narrative, like the inclusion of South Asians as part of the community. She quotes an activist whose words, unfortunately, still ring true today: "Asian Americans as a whole must re-evaluate what it means to be Asian American in order to finally stop the cycle of concentric exclusions... The alternative is that Tamils will continue to feel ignored by Sri Lankans, who are in turn tokenized by South Asian Americans, who feel marginalized by Asian Americans, who are invisible to Americans because they aren't black or white." (p. 222)

I appreciate that Helen Zia did not shy away from examining the context of Asian Americans in a racial landscape that is predominantly Black versus white. Excerpts such as the following are still relevant today: "We tried to explain that we recognized and respected African Americans' central and dominant position in the civil rights struggle; we wanted to show that we weren't trying to benefit from their sacrifices without offering anything in return. On the other hand, many European Americans were hostile or resistant to 'yet another minority group' stepping forward to make claims. Underlying both concerns was the suggestion, a nagging doubt, that Asian Americans had no legitimate place in discussions of racism because we hadn't really suffered any." (p. 68) I am greatly encouraged by how much progress has been made, though in some circles, whether or not the word "racist" can apply to African Americans being racially prejudiced against Asians is still up for debate. (p. 104)

Growing up, I identified as Chinese American because my parents were born in China. However, my parents were raised in Taiwan, are Taiwanese citizens, and consider Taiwan their homeland. Yet, we did not call ourselves Taiwanese, a label which, at the time, was reserved for native Taiwanese families. These days, as the separation between Chinese and Taiwanese is made more and more clear as tensions rise across the Taiwan Strait, I still identify as Chinese American, I also identify as Taiwanese American, and more and more often I find myself identifying as Asian American. This book opened my eyes to how this evolution in my own identity reflected the growth of the pan-Asian community in the United States. "Out of numerous disparate, even hostile, Asian ethnicities, we have forged a sense of shared experience and common future as Americans - Asian and Pacific Islander Americans." (p. 310)

This book describes how the term "Asian American" continues to be defined and re-defined by the people who claim the identity, from the first Chinese immigrants to modern day Hmong refugees and Korean adoptees in Minnesota to a new generation of hapa (a Hawaiian word for mixed-race people) across the country. Helen Zia assures us that as the Asian American community grows, Asian American groups and individuals will continue to find their place in America and their voice on issues in every facet of American life.  

How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi

★★★★★

Ibram X. Kendi challenges the standard definitions of racism that allow people to say, "I'm not racist." He maintains that each of us has the potential to be only racist or antiracist in our actions and ideas. He broadens the definition of "racism" to include concepts such as ethnic racism, cultural racism, behavioral racism, colorism, class racism, gender racism, and more. He carefully defines each term, oftentimes sharing personal anecdotes as examples. His vulnerability in opening up about his own journey towards antiracism helps make the process of self-examination feel more accessible and less threatening.

Most interestingly, Kendi counters the idea that "Black people can't be racist." Given how strongly some people feel about that notion, I'm surprised he isn't considered more controversial, particularly because this book goes even further and includes a chapter on anti-white racism.

How to Be an Antiracist focuses primarily on racism as it affects Black people, with other races mentioned only in passing here and there. Still, terminology is defined in terms of "racial groups", making it easy to apply Kendi's ideas to other races.

I think this book is essential reading for anyone who is earnest in their desire to work towards a more equitable society. It truly challenges some of the more conventional views on racism and pushes the reader to think more critically.

I don't usually do this, but there were so many quotes worth noting that I'm just going to include them here.

Page 8: This is the consistent function of racist ideas... to manipulate us into seeing people as the problem, instead of the policies that ensnare them.

Page 9: But there is no neutrality in the racism struggle. The opposite of "racist" isn't "not racist." It is "anti-racist." ... There is no in-between safe space of "not racist." ... "Racist" is not...a pejorative... It is descriptive... The attempt to turn this usefully descriptive term into an almost unusable slur is, of course, designed to do the opposite: to freeze us into inaction.

Page 19: But if racial discrimination is defined as treating, considering, or making a distinction in favor or against an indvidual based on that person's race, then racial discrimination is not inherently racist... If discrimination is creating equity, then it is antiracist. If discrimination is creating inequity, then it is racist. Someone reproducing inequity through permanently assisting an overrepresented racial group into wealth and power is entirely different than someone challenging that inequity by temporarily assisting an underrepresented racial group into relative wealth and power until equity is reached.

Page 21: Do-nothing climate policy is racist policy, since the predominantly non-White global south is being victimized by climate change more than the Whiter global north.

Page 23: "Racist" and "antiracist" are like peelable name tags that are placed and replaced based on what someone is doing or not doing, supporting or expressing in each moment. These are not permanent tattoos.

Page 29: Assimilationist ideas are racist ideas... Assimilationists typically position White people as the superior standard.

Page 48: The Black child is ill-treated like an adult, and the Black adult is ill-treated like a child.

Page 54: Assimilationists believe in the post-racial myth...that if we stop identifying by race, then racism will miraculously go away. They fail to realize that if we stop using racial categories, then we will not be able to identify racial inequity.

Page 64: That is the central double-standard in ethnic racism: loving one's position on the ladder above other ethnic groups and hating one's position below that of other ethnic groups.

Page 67: With ethnic racism, no one wins, except the racist power at the top.

Pages 93-94: One of the fundamental values of racism to White people is that it makes success attainable for even unexceptional Whites, while success, even moderate success, is usually reserved for extraordinary Black people.

Page 101: [T]he bait and switch at the heart of standardized tests - the exact thing that made them unfair: [The test prep course] was teaching test-taking form for standardized exams that purportedly measured intellectual strength... The use of standardized tests to measure aptitude and intelligence is one of the most effective racist policies ever devised to degrade Black minds and legally exclude Black bodies.

Page 128: Black people can be racist toward White people.

Page 129: To be antiracist is to never conflate racist people with White people, knowing there are antiracist Whites and racist non-Whites.

Page 129: Racist power, hoarding wealth and resources, has the most to lose in the building of an equitable society... [R]acist power produces racist policies out of self-interest and then produces racist ideas to justify those policies.

Pages 131-132: White supremacists are the ones supporting policies that benefit racist power against the interests of the majority of White people... They oppose affirmative-action programs, despite White women being their primary beneficiaries. White supremacists rage against Obamacare even as 43 percent of the people who gained lifesaving health insurance from 2010 to 2015 were White... White supremacists blame non-White people for the struggles of White people when any objective analysis of their plight primarily implicates the rich White Trumps they support.

Page 137: Powerless Defense: The illusory, concealing, disempowering, and racist idea that Black people can't be racist because Black people don't have power.

Page 140: The powerless defense shields people of color from charges of racism...[It] underestimates Black people and overestimates White people.

Page 142: The truth is: Black people can be racist because Black people do have power, even if limited.

Page 144: [Stop] denying the duality of racist and antiracist... For the better part of my life I held both racist and antiracist ideas... I've been antiracist one moment, racist in many more moments. To say Black people can't be racist is to say all Black people are being antiracist at all times... [T]hat is not true.

Pages 158-159: Rolling back racism in a capitalist nation can eliminate the inequities between the Black and White poor, middle-income Latinx and Asians, rich Whites and Natives... But antiracist policies alone cannot eliminate the inequities between the rich and poor Asians or between rich Whites and "White trash"... Antiracist policies cannot eliminate class racism without anticapitalist policies. Anticapitalism cannot eliminate class racism without antiracism.

Page 175: The antiracist desire to separate from racists is different from the segregationist desire to separate from "inferior" Blacks... When integrationists use segregation and separation interchangeably, they are using the vocabulary of Jim Crow.

Page 180: Integration: resources rather than bodies. To be antiracist is to champion resource equity by challenging the racist policies that produce resource inequity.

Pages 205-206: Moral and educational suasion focus on persuading White people, on appealing to their moral conscience through horror and their logical mind through education... What if racist policymakers have neither morals nor conscience, let alone moral conscience... What if economic, political, or cultural self-interest drives racist policymakers, not hateful immorality, not ignorance?

Page 208: The problem of race has always been at its core the problem of power, not the problem of immorality or ignorance... Moral and educational suasion breathes the assumption that racist minds must be changed before racist policy, ignoring history that says otherwise. Look at the soaring White support for desegregated schools and neighborhoods decades after the policies changed in the 1950s and 1960s. Look at the soaring White support for interracial marriage decades after the policy changed in 1967. Look at the soaring support for Obamacare after its passage in 2010. Racist policymakers drum up fear of antiracist policies through racist ideas... Once the fears do not come to pass, people will let down their guards as they enjoy the benefits. Once they clearly benefit, most Americans will support and become defenders of the antiracist policies they once feared... To fight for mental and moral change as a prerequisite for policy change is to fight against growing fears and apathy, making it almost impossible for antiracist power to succeed.

Page 209: Changing minds is not a movement... Changing minds is not activism. An activist produces power and policy change, not mental change.

Page 213: When we fail to open the closed-minded consumers of racist ideas, we blame their closed-mindedness instead of our foolish decision to waste time reviving closed minds from the dead... When we transform people and do not show them an avenue of support, we blame their lack of commitment rather than our lack of guidance.

Page 219: Asking antiracists to change their perspective on racism can be as destabilizing as asking racists to change their perspective on the races. Antiracists can be as doctrinaire in their view of racism as racists can be in their view of not-racism. How can antiracists ask racists to open their minds and change when we are closed-minded and unwilling to change?

The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead

★★★★★

Cora's quest for freedom is a personal story of slavery that allows us to see beyond the institution to the lived experiences of enslaved individuals. 

Always a realist, I had to consciously call upon suspended disbelief to allow for the existence of a literal underground railroad. Never mind how they got steam engines into underground tunnels! Just accept it, and go with it.

The book as a whole was like a tableau of possibilities. Cora's journey through the states was a vehicle to showcase the range of different perspectives and experiences one might expect during this time in history. With each state, an alternate reality of a slice America was presented. While one place may have appeared more progressive, and another place may have seemed more pleasant and refined, the underlying racism was always exposed.

Likewise, the cast of characters we meet on Cora's journey put on display a wide range of people and attitudes. Among the white people, we see that racism can be blatant and savage; it can rage hidden under a thin veneer of respectability; it can even fuel a white savior complex, seemingly lifting up black people while actually keeping them down. The abolitionists who helped Cora were a ray of hope for America's future. Some of the free Blacks had been slaves, others had been born free in the north, and among them they had different ideas of how best to live safely in white America.

While Cora's story was compelling, with unexpected twists and turns, I think the real value was in the exploration of the various societies and psyches of all the places and people Cora saw and met along the way. It wasn't until after I finished the book that I realized the chapters were alternatingly named for people and places.

I really enjoyed the author's writing; I appreciated his choice of words and turns of phrases, and occasionally re-read sentences just to savor them. The non-linear and non-chronological storytelling sometimes broke the flow of the narrative, but together they painted that period tableau.

My Beloved World by Sonia Sotomayor

★★★★★

Sonia Sotomayor is a remarkable woman and an exemplary role model for all of us. Her journey from a humble upbringing to Supreme Court Justice is impressive, but it's really her down-to-earth humility, work ethic, and pursuit of life-long learning and self-improvement that make her so inspiring. Sotomayor is reassuringly human.  

In the preface, she writes, "I would not have considered myself unqualifiedly happy as a child... though, I realized I did have sources of deep happiness, and these bred in me an optimism that proved stronger than any adversity." Reflecting on a happy childhood does not sound very noteworthy, but the quote becomes striking after reading a few chapters and learning that Sotomayor had an alcoholic father who died when she was young. There is sadness and hardship in her childhood, but it is clear how meaningful her family was to her, and how she drew strength from her roots as a Puerto Rican.

Always a keen observer, she realized at age 15 a truth that I didn't discover until I was an adult; that so much of what is wrong in the world boils down to this: "[P]eople can't imagine someone else's point of view." (p. 123)

I especially appreciated her insights and observations on race and injustice as they applied to Hispanics and Latinos, and the larger non-white community in general, at Princeton. Very frequently, conversations of race are limited to Black and white issues, but in writing of her own experiences, Sotomayor broadened the discussion to include non-Black people of color as well.

Sotomayor seems so full of wisdom and love that the more I read, the more I wished she were my Titi Sonia. I could use someone in my life to encourage me to be more forthcoming, with maxims like, "[V]irtue in obscurity is rewarded only in heaven" (p. 279); or to reassure me about big life decisions with profound statements like, "To say that a stay-at-home mom has betrayed her potential is no less absurd than to suggest that a woman who puts career first is somehow less a woman." (p. 296)

Reading this book against the backdrop of Black Lives Matter, when district attorneys across the country are being scrutinized for their role in cases of police brutality, it's notable that Sotomayer was able to convey the integrity and gravity of her work as a prosecutor.

Spanish words and phrases are sprinkled throughout. Frequently the meaning can be inferred from context, or the words were translated directly in the text, but when in doubt, there is a glossary!

Anything but Typical by Nora Raleigh Baskin

★★★★★

I know a couple people on the autism spectrum, but not well enough to know if this book is an authentic portrayal of autism. For what it is, this book touched me quite a bit. I felt like I could relate to both Jason and his mother, and I think I am leaving this book with a better understanding of people with autism. 

At first, the book felt didactic, like it was written for the express purpose of teaching readers about autism. But Jason won me over pretty quickly, and it didn't take long for me to feel invested in his story. The narrative was disjointed, which interrupted the flow of the story, but I think that approach was used intentionally to reflect Jason's non-linear way of thinking.

I appreciated that Jason was matter-of-fact about life's inequities; he understood more than people thought. He may not have shown it, but he knew when he was being treated poorly because he was different. His self-awareness, expressed through simple statements, was poignant.  

[M]om and dad couldn't make everything all right, even when they say, Don't worry. Everything is going to be all right. It's not. (p. 89)

You don't always get what you need. (p. 91)

"It's strange being in a hotel without Daddy and Jeremy, isn't it?" she says to me. Most things are strange to me, I'm thinking." (p. 154)

I loved that Jason understood his mother in meaningful ways, even though he couldn't always express himself. Like when his mom cried, he observed that it would have been better if his dad were with him, because his dad wouldn't have cried, yet he said, "[I]t's okay. That's what my mom is like. She can't help it. We all have things we can't help doing." (p. 193)

I really enjoyed the ending. I admit, I was a bit wary, afraid it would be one of those over-the-top happy endings that are so common in middle grade fiction. I don't want to put any spoilers in this review, so I'll just say it was satisfying, for me, and still realistic.

A couple nitpicky things, which I ignored when choosing my rating. First, this book threw around a lot of acronyms when describing Jason's autism. In most cases, the acronyms were explained, but I'm pretty sure SPED and IEP were never explicitly defined. I'm a stickler for clarity, so I wish the text spelled out Special Education and Individualized Education Program.

Also, I was a bit distracted by a number of typos in the edition I read. Every now and then, a word was dropped, e.g., "I don't why it is." (p. 142). Or, words were transposed, e.g., "I want to you know." (p. 192)

Gathering Blue (The Giver #2) by Lois Lowry

★★★

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

Gathering Blue is just as thought-provoking as The Giver, and part of its appeal was comparing and constrasting Kira's village with Jonas's community.

Kira's village lived in poverty and fear, with an every-person-for-themselves way of life. Yet, good-hearted people like Kira and Matt still flourished. At one point, referring to plants, Kira marveled at how "blossoms continued to bloom and she was awed to see that vibrant life still struggled to thrive despite such destruction." (p. 90) That description could be a metaphor for Kira and Matt's own lives, how the cards were stacked against them, yet they flourished. Taken further, it could be a metaphor for all of humankind; though the world had faced destruction, and shocking societies had grown out of ruin, the humanity of people like Jonas and Kira could lead people towards a better existence.

Matt was my favorite character. So capable and open, with such an infectious spirit! I would love to read more about him.

This book ends on a hopeful note, but as with The Giver, I put the book down wishing for a sequel. I can imagine Kira leading Thomas, Jo, and Matt in slowly introducing more compassion and equity into their society, but how? How will they handle the Council of Guardians, and Jamison in particular? Does the other community really become known to the village, and how do the villagers react to the news? What happens when everybody finally learns that there are no beasts?

As far as I could tell, there was nothing in this book that made it clear it existed in the same universe as The Giver; we only know the two stories are related because this book is marketed as a companion book. Just one line gives a hint at a possible connection, when Matt tells Kira that there is a boy her age in the other community who has very blue eyes. From The Giver, we know that Jonas and Gabriel had "pale eyes", which could indeed mean they had blue eyes. It's a very thin connection, but it's intriguing to wonder if the boy might be Jonas in a contemporary timeline, or Gabriel many years later. 

The Giver (The Giver #1) by Lois Lowry

★★★

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

I really enjoyed the writing in this book. It was straightforward and descriptive, and I think its matter-of-fact simplicity evoked a sense of calm and order, reflective of the community in the story.

I can imagine this book making a big impression on young readers, showing them the value of having choice, and how our individuality brings richness to our lives. Readers of all ages may be touched by the reminder that even if sometimes life is inconvenient, painful, or sad, it is the same range of emotions and experiences that allows us to feel joy, love, and excitement.

I was a bit thrown, however, by the uncertainty of the genre. I went into the book believing it was a kind of realistic utopian fiction, maybe futuristic or post-apocalyptic, but within the realm of possibility for humans on Earth. The totalitarian world of Sameness was intriguing; both benefits and disadvantages were clear, though its inhumanity was exposed when Jonas was introduced to the pill, even before we found out what a "release" really meant.  

Then I got to the part about the Giver transmitting ideas to the Receiver telepathically. Suddenly, I had to recalibrate my understanding of this world as one in which some people had a supernatural ability. And the fact that people couldn't see color, how could that be explained? "Memories" had odd, unexpected qualities; they could only be held by one person at a time, and they never disappeared, but needed to be held specifically by someone in the community. As these sci-fi / fantasy components emerged, the book became less of a kind of warning for us humans, and more like an interesting story of some other species, perhaps one that might be encountered on Star Trek: The Next Generation. (Incidentally, some of these details held together better in the movie version, which I watched after finishing the book. In the movie, all citizens were given an injection since birth - this could explain the color blindness - and there was advanced technology that contained memories within the community at the Boundary of Memory.)

I can see the poetry in the final scene (which Lois Lowry called "intentionally ambiguous" (p. x) in the Introduction of the edition I read), but I am personally not a fan of vague endings open to interpretation. I like closure, and I like knowing what the creator of the story intended for their characters. Though I much prefer happy endings, I admit that if I am forced to choose, I might have to say that I think Jonas and Gabriel died in the snow. (I was actually quite pleased when the movie delivered the more uplifting option of the happy ending.)

Finally, the book left me with some lingering questions. First, I understand that the Giver plays a vital role in the story, but Jonas is clearly the protagonist. Why not name the book after the Receiver? Maybe because Jonas became a Giver when he transmitted memories to Gabriel? Or, as my husband suggested, because Jonas, at the end of the book, was the Giver for the entire community?

Second, what happens to the community when they receive all of Jonas's memories? How do they manage, and how is their society changed? Will the original Giver be able to effect change, or will the Committee of Elders squash the potential as they did when Rosemary was released? I wish these questions could be answered in a sequel.

Prairie Lotus by Linda Sue Park

★★★★½

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

This book is remarkable for its place in children's literature. I appreciate its existence so much! It's a lovely story about a pioneer girl in the vein of Little House on the Prairie, but the main character, Hanna, is half Chinese. 

Before moving to the Dakota Territory in 1880, Hanna and her parents lived through the 1871 mass lynching of Chinese people in Los Angeles. The event is used to set the tone for society's attitude towards Chinese people in the time period of this book. Personally, I did not know about this race riot until I was an adult - I certainly never heard about it in school - and I am beyond pleased that this book provides an opportunity for young readers to learn about this piece of American history.

I am especially thrilled that this book features a half-Chinese main character, since books featuring mixed race characters are even rarer than books featuring people of color. There is much in this book that will resonate with Asian and half-Asian readers: Hanna's anxiety and discomfort from being different from everyone around her; the physical and mental exhaustion of worrying about how she ought to behave, and how others are perceiving her, on top of all the regular expectations of being in school; the indiginities suffered when others mistreat her, and the injustice of being blamed for others' cruelty; the self-doubt in wondering how someone's behavior towards her might be different if she weren't Chinese. These are all the emotions and experiences that are familiar to Asian Americans today.

It's worth noting that the book does not use the word "chink" as a racial slur, but does use the phrase "chinks in the boards." (p. 68) I have to assume this was a conscious choice of words. Maybe the author is saying, "Nope, I am not going to use that awful word and, in fact, I'm going to use the non-offensive definition just to show how the word itself is twisted and gets its power only from the hate and racism of the people speaking the word." Other characters do use the term "Chinaman", which is appropriate for the time period. Since only the townspeople who don't like Hanna use the word in dialog, I think the text sufficiently conveys that the word is generally not acceptable and is derogatory. 

The author does an excellent job incorporating lessons of race that are applicable in real life. Although most often, when Hanna was mistreated, she was forced to suffer in silence, I liked that when given an opportunity, Hanna spoke up and modeled how a person could deal with a microaggression while remaining calm and non-confrontational. The book even states that Hanna had "spent a lot of time thinking what she should say" in case she was faced with a particular insult, which I appreciated because in my own experience, in the heat of an offense, I can rarely think of an effective response.

The book also does a great job showing how Hanna herself, in a position of being at the mercy of others, was limited in what she could do; it was important that she have white allies who were willing to do the hard work of having the conversations that could truly change minds. The author even makes a point to show how standing up to others is a daunting and seemingly impossible task for a single person, but becomes doable with the support of just one other person. Again, in this example, the author is careful to show that the right approach did not come quickly and easily, but rather, took a lot of consideration and thought, planning and practice.

I appreciate that Hanna's story includes interactions with Native Americans. I don't know how students learn about America's westward expansion now, but I clearly remember being in middle school and learning about Manifest Destiny as a fact of history. It actually feels like a relief to know that young readers today have access to narratives that re-frame the events of this period from a non-white perspective. Hanna ties her experience with Native Amerians to her overall understanding of American society, thinking, "I used to think only of how white people treated Chinese people. Now I know it's about how white people treat anybody who isn't white." (p. 157)

Besides race, this book also addresses loss. Hanna needs to come to terms with the death of her mother, keeping her memories and love for her mother strong, even while her father moves them far away from any place that would remind them of her.   

I am impressed, too, in the way this book handles an assault. Hanna being a victim of physical violence (written in a very age appropriate way) might seem like one too many issues being tackled, but it's a realistic possibility. The event and the aftermath are not dwelled upon; readers get a glimpse of how a physical assault can affect a person's thinking and behavior. I think it's a worthwhile inclusion, it provides a point of reference for young readers to process abuse.

A couple minor things made me rate this book 4 1/2 stars instead of 5 stars. At one point, a character declares that "it was Koreans who had invented chopsticks". (p. 51) I am no scholar of Asian history, but I turned to Google, and every resource I could find on the history of chopsticks credits China with their invention. The assertion was made to show the character's pride in being Korean, but since it appears to be inaccurate, I'm concerned that young readers may accept it as fact, and I wonder why it was included, instead of some other undisputed Korean achievement. 

Also, a great deal is made in the book about how Mr. Harris had to write to the federal government to ask whether or not Hanna is legally allowed to attend the same school as everyone else. A lot of events hang on this question, yet we don't get an answer. (In San Francisco in the 1880s, Chinese children attended Chinese-only schools, and during segregation in the South, Chinese children were considered colored and barred from white schools.)

Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption by Bryan Stevenson

★★★★★

This book laid bare the injustices of mass incarceration and extreme punishment. 

Bryan Stevenson is a lawyer who recounted the events of his fight to save Walter McMillian from the death penalty. The blatant abuse of power by the judicial system was outrageous and infuriating. I read with awe the author's ability to remain professional and composed in the face of racism, corruption, and cruelty.

Interspersed with Walter McMillian's story, glimpses of other cases were presented, too, including those that exposed the horrifying abuse suffered by children in adult jails. In this book, Stevenson spoke for all the vulnerable people who are most harmed by the injustices of the judicial system, not just black and brown people, but also children, women, poor people, victims of abuse, and people with mental illness.

Occasionally, Stevenson took a step back from his cases to elaborate on the history of race in America, providing context for understanding how contemporary issues of injustice are rooted in the American institutions of slavery, segregation, and mass incarceration.  

The author also opened up about his own experiences. He knew first-hand the struggles of growing up poor and black in a rural area, and being a Yale-educated lawyer was no protection from being racially profiled.

While many of the events described in this book were disturbing and disheartening, there were also glimmers of hope in the selfless, altruistic acts of those who provided help and support to the people who needed it. Of course the author himself is an incredible inspiration, but he also wrote about others he met during the course of his cases.

An important read for all Americans, so that we may truly understand the realities of our judicial system.

The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind: Creating Currents of Electricity and Hope

★★★★★

My overall appreciation of this book is the same as it was for the Young Readers Edition, which I also gave 5 stars, so my review of the content is basically the same. Here, I will just note the differences between this book (the original version) and the Young Readers Edition.

The Young Readers Edition is an excellent re-telling of this book at a level that is appropriate for middle grade readers. There are lots of familiar passages that are shared between the two editions. This original version, however, tells us more about William's father Trywell, his Uncle John, and Chewa culture. We also get a broader understanding of Malawian history and politics, and the book touches upon more mature topics such as AIDS, prostitutes, and watching a loved one almost die from malaria. Some of the additional content include elements of violence.

Unlike the glossy color photos in the Young Readers Edition, the photos in this book are black and white and interspersed in context, with more extensive captions. Many of the photos are the same, but this book also has additional photos not included in the Young Readers Edition.

It's worth noting that this book was published in 2009, 6 years before the Young Readers Edition was published in 2015. The epilogue to the Young Readers Edition has more recent updates that aren't in this book, including William's graduation from Dartmouth. But, the edition I read of the original version had an "About the Book" section, written in 2010, that gave a detailed and enjoyable account of William's book tour in America, including entertaining details not mentioned in the Young Readers Edition.

Incidentally, in case you're interested, the Netflix movie is based on this book, so there are scenes in the movie that are recognizable from this version, but not the Young Readers Edition. The movie took some poetic license, but generally stayed very close to actual events.

The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind: Young Readers Edition by William Kamkwamba and Bryan Mealer

★★★★★

My son in 6th grade read this book and gave it 5 stars. I agree!

The narrative voice was straightforward and matter-of-fact, but also conveyed the thoughtfulness and patience of the storyteller. The first half of the memoir described William's life in Malawi, from the days of care-free independence, hunting for birds with his faithful dog, to the months of heartwrenching hunger and fear, witnessing the horrors of famine. His account of growing up without electricity, running water, or even school is sure to make an impression on young readers.

The second half of the book centered around William's efforts to build the windmill. In this day and age, when most of us take electricity for granted, it is eye-opening to see how revolutionary a single light bulb can be, a means to achieve freedom from darkness. William's motivation and ability to self-learn from books written in English, without even a solid grasp of the English language, was remarkable. The extent to which he re-purposed the discarded junkyard scraps of an abandoned tobacco plantation was extraordinary to say the least. Without the proper tools, William even made his own tools!

I appreciated that the book also talked about William's ideas and inventions that didn't work out. It's important for young readers to see that even with William's winning combination of interest, talent, hard work, and ingenuity, he had some defeats, too. Impressively, William's goals never wavered; every innovation was designed to solve a particular problem in his home or community, and he sought to improve the lives of his neighbors and fellow Malawians.

I really enjoyed the glossy color photos. Also, the Netflix movie is a great dramatization, a worthy supplement to this book. I watched the movie as an introduction, then I read this book to get the full true story, and now I am going to read the original version (not the young readers edition), to learn even more about William and Malawi!

Look Both Ways by Jason Reynolds

★★★★

This book is a collection of 10 short stories all set in the same time and place. When the closing bell rings at Latimer Middle School, students go their separate ways, sometimes alone, sometimes with friends. Every kid has a story. Taken together, we see how complex these students' lives can be, even in middle school.

I really enjoyed this book's format and storytelling. Each chapter starts with a small illustration, one part of a larger tableau (the cover art) depicting all the stories' main characters as they leave school at the end of the day. The students are all classmates, so they weave in and out of each other's stories, a tangential character in one story becoming the main character of another. I can see these crossovers being especially fun for young readers. Maybe they'll read a story and think, "Oh! This story is all about that kid from the other story!" or, "I remember these kids from their story, I know where they are going!"

Narration styles vary; stories may be told in a straightforward chronology, with flashbacks, or using some other unconventional method. At times the prose blends into poetry. Metaphors and similes abound. I have to admit, I am a very literal reader, so I am not sure I understood the "school bus falling from the sky" line that kept popping up throughout the book. The last story provides both some metaphorical context and a literal explanation for the line, which gives a nice sense of closure, though I'm still not sure I get the falling out of the sky part. Maybe it's about school buses representing the unexpected, or maybe it's just silly fun.

As usual, Jason Reynolds does not disappoint with the diversity and complexity of his characters and stories. We have kids of color, yes, but we also get glimpses of illness (sickle cell anemia, cancer, dementia), loss of a loved one, fear (of change, of dogs, of danger), bullying, homophobia, and incarceration. These hard things don't dominate, though, because the young heroes of these stories are busy with hustling schemes, video games, humor, and young love. They are supported by friends who are loyal and brave, and by familiar adults like teachers, a custodian, a crossing guard, a store owner, neighbors, and even a passer-by, people who might seem peripheral, but really are grounding.

My ratings for individual stories ranged from 3 to 5 stars, so I figured on 4 stars overall.

Logans Roundup

Realistic fiction about three generations of a Southern black family spanning the years from just after the Civil War to the Great Depression.

• The Land (#1) ★★★★★
• The Well (#2) ★★★★★
• Song of the Trees (#3) ★★★
• Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry (#4) ★★★★★

The Well (Logans #2) by Mildred D. Taylor

★★★★★

Like Song of the Trees, The Well is essentially a short story.

The book is written from the perspective of a grown-up David telling a story from his childhood. It's easy to imagine the words spoken aloud, as part of a family's oral tradition.

This is the 4th book of the series that I've read. Having already gotten to know the main characters from other books, I went into this one feeling fully invested in the Logan family. Being able to follow the arcs of character development was certainly a factor in why I was so captivated by the book. I was moved by the poignancy of an elder Ma Rachel, still so affected by the importance of her name, and I was saddened to see Paul-Edward talk of his brother, his childhood playmate, as "that white boy" (p. 73-74).

A lot of big themes were packed into this short story. There was Hammer's strong sense of pride and justice, despite the injustice of the laws and reality of the time; David's dedication to family and peace in his quiet willingness to take a completely unjustified beating; Caroline's keen understanding of people and events, coupled with smart thinking and quick action, in her efforts to help ensure as good an outcome as possible with the sheriff; and Paul-Edward's thoughtful and sensitive treatment of Joe McCalister.

The shocking unfairness depicted in this story is as heartbreaking as it is infuriating. Everyone should read this series to better understand a part of American history that isn't always taught in schools, but should be.

Parents should know that dialog is appropriate to the time period, and the n-word is used quite a bit.

Nightfall (Keeper of the Lost Cities #6) by Shannon Messenger

★★★

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

There's a lot of explaining in this book. The first several chapters are basically a giant recap to the whole series, which was fine with me because at this point, all the details are getting muddled in my head.

Nightfall very satisfyingly brings in Sophie's human family. I appreciated this new development quite a bit, since I always thought it was a glaring omission of convenience for the Harry Potter series to not integrate Hermione's muggle life into the magical world. 

There were a lot of exciting developments, a couple new characters, and Sophie's enhancing ability turned out to be more interesting than I expected.

Still, the unfolding story was as convoluted as ever, with Sophie and others making tenuous connections to move the story forward. The plot seemed to be driven more by explanation than by actual events.

Until now, I had brushed off the love square as an intermittent distraction. But potential relationships were more front and center in this installment, and I just found it to be an annoyance. Probably most readers enjoy the tension, and the choosing of sides for perfect pairings, but I'm just not a fan of superfluous romance that doesn't actually move the story along.

I also found myself disappointed at the lack of storytelling detail. For example, in the sparring match between Keefe and Dimitar, I didn't get any sense of how Keefe, a teenage boy with no training in defense or weapons or fighting, was able to best the highly trained warrior king with only his levitation skill. An actual play-by-play of how he made his strikes would have been nice. Also, more than once, it was a big mystery how Lady Gisela was able to get past Sandor's goblin guard. Apparently, Keefe's ogre bodyguard Ro was able to figure it out "within about three seconds" (p. 559), but we readers were still left in the dark.

The War On Normal People: The Truth About America's Disappearing Jobs and Why Universal Basic Income is Our Future by Andrew Yang

★★★★★

This book is a call to arms. We are now in the midst of the Great Displacement, Andrew Yang's term for the mass exodus of Americans from the work force, caused mostly by automation. "The revolution will happen either before or after the breakdown of society. We must choose before." (p. 243)

The content of this book is basically laid out in the subtitle: "The Truth about America's Disappearing Jobs and Why Universal Basic Income is Our Future." If all you know about Andrew Yang is that he is a Democratic presidential candidate talking about giving every American adult $1000/month, no strings attached, and you think it's a crazy idea and don't understand where it's coming from, then this book is for you. Everything will be explained. 

On the campaign trail, when asked about climate change, Yang talks about how UBI would "get the boot off people's necks," allowing more people to focus on bigger things beyond their own survival, like the climate crisis. Making that link seems tenuous at best, but the reasoning behind it is laid out in this book. 

The War on Normal People is well-organized into three equally self-explanatory sections:

• Part One: What's Happening to Jobs. (TL;DR: They're being lost to automation.)
• Part Two: What's Happening to Us (TL;DR: The fabric of society is disintegrating.)
• Part Three: Solutions and Human Capitalism (TL;DR: Yang proposes a universal basic income, among other ideas.)

Andrew Yang's writing is approachable and cogent. Using numbers and data, insightful thinking, and common sense, Yang explains exactly which jobs will be lost to automation, and why. He doesn't oppose the coming automation; in fact, he makes convincing arguments for why certain jobs should be automated. What he wants to make clear is that continued and increased automation is inevitable, and as a nation, we should be prepared. We need an economy that will continue to value people, and that "value" should not be tied to jobs or income.  

It turns out, the GDP, stock market, and unemployment rates don't really give us an accurate picture of the state of our nation. Yang presents additional data like life expectancy, marriage rates, measures of confidence in government institutions, rates of deaths by suicide and drugs, rates of disability enrollment, etc., and their trends over time. Our nation is actually not well, and much of it is because "we prioritize capital efficiency above all and see people probably as economic inputs." (p. 160) Instead, "we have to make clear that we value people intrisincally, independent of any qualities or qualifications." (p. 212) This idea is at the center of Yang's "Humanity First" campaign slogan.

Every chapter was eye-opening and chock full of fascinating information, but if I had to pick just a few especially enlightening chapters, they'd be:

• Chapter 8 "The Usual Objections," in which Yang addresses common questions doubting the need to address automation.
• Chapter 9 "Life in the Bubble," in which Yang paints a clear picture of why and how the coastal elites exist, and where smart people fit in in the job market. (I run in these circles and can vouch for this chapter's accuracy.)
• Chapter 10 "Mindsets of Scarcity and Abundance," in which Yang recounts studies that show that the burden of having additional worries (e.g., financial struggles) actually interferes with thinking and self-control, including one's behavior and respect towards others. 
• Chapter 17 "Universal Basic income in the Real World," in which Yang outlines the success of actual implementations of different forms of UBI in various parts of the world, including Canada and the United States.

I picked this book up because I was curious about Andrew Yang as a presidential candidate. Whether he wins or not, I think it's imperative that the federal government start addressing, in very big ways, the issues he's talking about.

Lodestar (Keeper of the Lost Cities #5) by Shannon Messenger

★★★★

Events in this book weren't as tight and held together as in the last book, but there were a lot of very interesting developments! The Lodestar itself was a good central theme, and readers can think themselves clever if they figure out the connection to the modified registry files before it's revealed in the book. As usual, a lot of surprises occur at the very end, setting the stage for the next installment.

Incidentally, I'm getting a bit irritated at how frequently everyone says, "That makes sense." It's not confined to one person's manner of speaking, and it seems equally used among multiple characters, old and young. It just seems like a clunky way to ensure that whatever explanation or conjecture is put forward will be accepted, no matter how unlikely or how little evidence there really is to point in that direction. When used as a simple phrase of acknowledgement, I just think a little variety would be welcome, e.g., "Okay," "I get it," "I understand," etc.